Phoenix
by GirlInTheMirror121
Summary: "Like a phoenix, Kurt would rise from the ashes of what he'd created." Sequel to my unexpected runaway hit, "Playing With Fire." Kurt and Santana are sent to the psych ward for some healing time. Will they rise above? Time will tell. Purt. COMPLETE.
1. You Stayed

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.**

**Note: So here's the much-anticipated sequel to "Playing With Fire"! Kurt Hummel is on his way to an adolescent psych ward, no thanks to Puck's actions. Santana is on her way there, too. Will they be able to heal? Or will they fall apart? Only time will tell…expect quite a few Original Characters. Also, I just may do Puck/Kurt. I'm still toying with it, to be quite honest. **

**Note 2: I'm not sure when this will be posted…I'm not sure if you've noticed, but FanFiction has had login issues last night and today. I'm trying, though! **

_Phoenix [fee-niks] (noun): a mythical bird of great beauty fabled to live 500 or 600 years in the Arabian wilderness, to burn itself on a funeral pyre, and to rise from its ashes in the freshness of youth and live through another cycle of years: often an emblem of immortality or of reborn idealism or hope. A person or thing that has become renewed or restored after suffering calamity or apparent annihilation._

A phoenix is exactly what Kurt Hummel was. Or, rather, it was what he would become, with some luck. Like a phoenix, Kurt would be reborn from the ashes of his destruction. Like a phoenix, he would be renewed, restored, he would be human again, and the beast that lay within him would be vanquished once and for all. With any luck, Santana Lopez would be his twin phoenix, also being reborn from the ashes of what she had (literally) driven herself to be. But enough of that, now.

Where we last left them, Santana was in the hospital, where she had arrived after having been in a horrendous car accident that left her with several broken bones and a concussion. Kurt had tried to commit suicide upon the news of Santana's accident, having assumed her dead. And Puck, unsure how to handle the situation, had notified Kurt's family as to what happened, having saved Kurt from his self-slaughter.

Carole and Burt and Finn came bursting into the emergency room where Puck was standing, waiting for them.

"Puck, where's Kurt?" Carole asked, voice quavering. "Where is he?"

"He's upstairs, with Santana."

Carole sank into a nearby chair. "Thank God…thank God…" Burt took off for the elevators without a second thought. Finn collapsed into a chair next to his mother.

"I feel so responsible," he moaned, putting his head into his hands. "What kind of stepbrother am I?"

"A lousy one," Puck remarked.

"Never mind that right now," Carole said weakly. "Puck, tell me what happened, please, from the start."

Puck took a deep breath and began to spin his tale. "It all started a few days ago…"

Burt stormed into Santana Lopez's room. He found his son in a chair next to her bed, holding her hand and crying softly. "Kurt Hummel," he thundered. Kurt stood up with a start.

"Dad," he said quickly. "I can explain…"

"Can explain how you just tried to KILL YOURSELF?" Burt roared. Santana's eyes fluttered open. "Mr. Hummel?" She asked sleepily.

Burt stormed over to Kurt and took him sharply by the wrist. "Say goodbye to Santana, Kurt, because you're not seeing her for a long, long time."

Kurt turned his head to his friend, tears blinding him. "No…Dad, no…"

"Now, Kurt."

"Goodbye, Santana," Kurt whispered. She raised her good hand in farewell. Kurt was dragged from the room by his father.

Burt pinned his son against the wall. "Kurt, I'm only going to ask you this one more time: what the HELL were you thinking?"

"Daddy, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Kurt sobbed.

"Sorry doesn't cut it, Kurt. No son of mine, gay or straight, is going to try to kill himself and get away with it." Kurt continued to sob. "Stop that crying. Be a man, Kurt. Oh, wait. I guess you can't be a man. Real men don't try to burn themselves to death." Kurt only sobbed even more, dropping to his knees. "Get up!" Burt yelled, hauling Kurt to his feet. "Look me in the eye!" Kurt couldn't, he just couldn't. "LOOK ME IN THE EYE," Burt said in a loud, stern voice. Kurt didn't. Burt slapped him across the face. "Damn you, Kurt. Damn you." Kurt felt the sharp sting from the slap. "Damn you," Burt said again.

"I can't believe Kurt would…I should've seen the signs!" Carole scolded herself.

"We all should have, Carole," Puck said quietly, trying to calm her.

"I'm his stepmother! I should've seen this!" She dabbed a tissue to her eye.

"Even his best friend didn't see this," Finn murmured. "Even I didn't. And I'm his stepbrother."

"Watch it, Hudson," Puck growled. "The last time you mentioned Kurt to us, you called him a faggot."

"What?" Carole whirled around to face Finn. "You called your brother a WHAT?"

Finn hung his head in shame. "I was angry with him," he admitted.

"That gives you no right to call your brother derogatory names. You're grounded for a month, Finn."

Finn hung his head again. "Yes, Mom."

She turned back to Puck. "What do you suggest we do?"

"Well, this place has a…a juvenile psych ward, I think. So maybe he can go there or something. And he can get help from, you know, those…psych people."

Carole blew her nose. "Yes….I think that will help. At least, I hope it will."

Puck put a hand on her shoulder. "For Kurt's sake," he said. "We all hope it will."

Burt dragged Kurt to the elevator. "You're going straight to a psychologist," he muttered. "Straight to a shrink. If we need to lock you up, God help us, we will." Kurt trembled. He didn't want to be sent to the loony bin. He didn't want to be sent to anyone. He just wanted to go _home_. He just wanted to go _home_. He ran from the elevator right into Carole's waiting arms. She hugged him tightly. "Kurt, Kurt," she murmured into his hair.

"M-M-M-Mom," he stuttered, using that name for the first time in deference to Carole. It only made her cry even harder than she already was. Finn clung back awkwardly.

"Kurt," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."

Kurt glared at him over Carole's shoulder. "Apology not accepted," he said coldly.

Carole let go and looked at him. "I understand, honey. Finn had no right to call you those names."

"I'm not talking about that," he said, breaking free from her grip. "I'm talking about something else entirely. And Finn very well knows what that is."

Finn shuffled his large feet. "Yes, I do," he said quietly. "And I'm sorry for that, too."

"Apology still not accepted," Kurt said in that same cold voice. It was then that he noticed Puck standing there for the first time. "Puck," his voice softened. "You stayed."

"Um, yeah, I did," Puck nervously stated. "Are…are you mad that I called your folks?"

"You stayed," Kurt said again, voice breaking. "You stayed." He ran over to Puck and threw himself into the boy's arms.

"Um, yeah, little dude, I stayed," Puck said, feeling very awkward that Kurt was suddenly snuggled up in his arms. He patted Kurt's back gently.

For once, Kurt didn't mind that Puck had called him 'little dude'.

_He'd stayed._

_He'd stayed to make sure that he was okay. _

_And he had saved him._

_So how _could_ Kurt be mad, really?_


	2. I Don't Wanna Go to Rehab

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.**

**Note: Fanfiction has been having login problems. Mucho grande login problems. So I haven't been able to post! So sad, I know, children. Don't worry! I'll work on this in the meantime and post them in succession! Review this!**

_Kurt didn't wanna go to rehab, no, no no._

But of course, he had to.

_Why?_

Because he was sick, very sick.

_And only one person could see that.  
><em>  
>Puck.<p>

_Kurt wasn't alone._

Santana had to go, too.

_Why?_

Because, like Kurt, she was very sick.

_And they both needed help, didn't they?_

"Miss Lopez? The psychologist would like to talk to you, now," the nurse said.

Santana tried to scoot herself into more of a sitting position. "Okay," she murmured.

"Hi, Santana, I'm Dr. Garcia," the psychologist said, shaking her hand warmly.

"Hola," she replied.

"I'd like to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind."

"Shoot."

"Would you say you're popular at school?"

"Yeah," she said.

"So you have a lot of friends?"

She paused. "Yes," she answered slowly.

"Any extracurriculars?"

"I used to cheerlead," she said. "And I'm in Glee Club."

"So you're involved," he made a note on his clipboard. "Any boyfriends?"

"Sam," she whispered. _Why hadn't he called?_

"And do you love Sam?"

She hung her head. "No," she admitted.

He raised his brows. "Then why do you date him?"

"Because," she whispered. "I'm in love with my best friend."

"Why don't you talk to your friend about this?"

"I did talk to her," Santana whispered. "And she won't dump her boyfriend for me."

"So you're bisexual or…?" Dr. Garcia set his clipboard down.

"Gay," she whispered. It was the first time she'd said it aloud since she told Kurt.

The doctor took her hand. "Have you told anyone?"

"Just Kurt," she murmured.

"And who's Kurt, Santana?"

"My…friend," she gulped.

"Is he gay, too? Or…"

"Yes," she said quietly. "He's gay. And out. I'm not out. I can't be."

"Why?"

"I've seen the way Kurt gets tormented at school," a tear ran down her face. "And I just can't…I can't go through that, too."

"What about the cuts on your wrists? Do you have a cat?"

She shook her head.

"Did you make those yourself?"

She nodded.

Dr. Garcia sighed. "Santana, how do you feel about going to get some help with this?"

She shook her head. "No…anything but that…"

"Santana, I think it could do you a world of good. You'd be with kids your own age, with all sorts of problems. You'd be able to talk to doctors, other psychologists, other kids…people who could help you get through this."

She hung her head. _No_.

"Your parents already agreed to it."

_Those traitors!_

"The paperwork is all filled out. We'll be moving you up there on Sunday, when an all-new group of kids will be moving in with you."

_Goddamn._

"If I have to," she sighed.

"You do," the doctor nodded.

"I can't walk," she looked down at her busted leg.

"We'll provide you a wheelchair."

She scoffed. "Just like Artie," she muttered.

The doctor looked slightly amused. "Who's Artie?"

"A…friend…from Glee Club."

"I see. And he's in a wheelchair, too?"

She rolled her eyes. "Duh."

"Do I sense some hostility towards this Artie fellow?"

"He's Brittany's boyfriend," she said darkly.

"Ah, I see. Well, it's been nice meeting you, Santana." He shook her hand again and walked out. Santana punched the pillow supporting her leg. _God. Damn._

"Kurt, your father and I have talked," Carole said, tears in her eyes.

_Shit._

"And we're sending you to the adolescent psychology ward at Lima Mercy," she said. "I'm so sorry we had to do this, honey. I'm so sorry…"

He pulled one of the couch pillows onto his lap and began screaming into it at top volume. Carole blanched; she hadn't expected this severe of a reaction. "Kurt, Kurt," she put a hand on his shoulder, but he kept on screaming. Burt pulled his face out of the pillow sharply.

"Stop that!" he yelled. "Stop that screaming right now!" Kurt stopped. "This is why we're doing this, Kurt. It's for your own goddamn good."

Kurt shuddered. "Fuck you," he swore, running straight to his room and slamming the door behind him. When he whirled around, Finn was sitting on his bed.

"FINN, GET OUT OF MY ROOM," Kurt yelled.

"No," Finn said calmly. "Not until we've talked about this.

Kurt hauled the door open again. "FINN. GET OUT. NOW."

Finn stood up. "No! Kurt, we've gotta talk about this, man!"

"I don't want to talk about this, Finnius!" Finn shuddered at the use of his full name.

"Kurt," he approached his stepbrother slowly. "Please…let's talk…"

Kurt went up behind Finn and tried to push him out the door. "No!"

"I'm not leaving until we talk," Finn rooted his feet in the carpet.

"Well, I'm not talking," Kurt sat down on his bed in a huff. "I'm not coming out or eating or…or doing anything ever again because of THEM."

"Finn!" Carole called upstairs. Finn looked from Kurt to the door and back again. He didn't dare disobey his mother; he ran out the door and down the stairs.

"Give him some time," Carole whispered to Finn.

"But Ma! He's being overdramatic…again!"

"Give him time, Finn," she warned.

"Fine," Finn said, stomping out the door. "But don't expect me to be around when he wants to talk!"

Carole sighed. She clomped up the stairs to talk to Kurt, but was faced with a shut door and a blaring stereo. "Kurt!" she called over the blasting music.

"Go away!"

She knocked on the door. "Kurt, please let me in!" She was worried he might make another attempt on his life. He didn't answer. She tried the doorknob. "Kurt, let me in, please!" she begged. No answer.

She ran back down the stairs and got Burt's toolbox out of the garage. She went back up the stairs, quieter this time, and succeeded in taking Kurt's door off the hinges.

Kurt's eyes flew open. "We're going to the hospital. On Sunday."

"You're going to have to drag me there!"

"Fine by me," she spat out. "Kurt, I love you, and I'm doing this because I care!"

"If you really cared, you've leave me alone!" he cried, feeling bitter tears run down his cheeks.

"Well, I guess I don't care, then." She turned on her heel and left, taking Kurt's door with her, storing it where Kurt would never look.

Kurt screamed in frustration, then reached for the landline that he had in his room, dialing the hospital and asking to be connected to Santana's room.

She answered blearily. "Hello?"

"It's me," he said breathlessly.

"Kurt?" She perked up.

"Yeah. Santana, the most terrible thing just happened to me."

"Finn stole your favorite scarf?" She joked.

"No. Carole took my door off the hinges and stored it somewhere."

Santana gasped. "Like in Freaky Friday?"

"Yeah, but worse, cuz I'm Kurt."

"That…that makes no sense, Kurt," she laughed in spite of herself.

"It makes perfect sense!" he pouted.

"You're right," she giggled. "So are you coming to visit me anytime soon or are you gonna leave me alone here without the latest _Cosmo_ to keep me entertained?"

"I don't have my car. And I'm under like, suicide watch here."

"Sucks," she muttered. "Kurt…I…I have something to tell you."

He gripped the phone. "What?"

"Excuse me, Miss Lopez? We need to take you for x-rays now," a nurse's voice sounded in the background.

Santana groaned. "Kurt, I'm sorry, I gotta go."

"Santana, no, wait!" But it was too late; she had hung up.

_What was she going to tell me?_ He panicked.

He got up to slam his door again, but remembered that his door was gone. He picked up his bedding and iPod and carried his things down to the basement, to his old room, which had been converted into a rec room. This was where he'd sleep until he met his fate.

_They try to make me go to rehab, but I said no, no, no_, he sang to himself.


	3. Waiting to Go On

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.**

**Note: So Kurt's going to rehab. So is Santana. Now let's get them there, shall we? Major, major, MAJOR props to one of my good friends, whose name I shall not reveal, who gave me this inside information on what life is like on the psych ward. Thank you SO MUCH, sweetie. This will only make this story even more real. And yes, this story will be Purt, eventually. Oh, and please review! **

"Okay, Miss Lopez, it's time to move you upstairs!" the all-too cheerful nurse trilled.

"Fine," Santana huffed, scooting herself into the wheelchair. It only reminded her of Artie, which reminded her of Brittany. Santana did not want to think about Brittany, not right now. She just wanted to see Kurt, to get better, to go on a nice, long vacation.

"Now, Santana Banana," her mom used her oh-so-embarrassing childhood name, "We're only doing this for your own good, sweetie. Please don't be too mad."

Santana sighed. All of her anger had drained over the weekend. "I'm not," she said softly. "I just want to see Kurt again, that's all."

"Maybe you'll make some new friends," Mrs. Lopez said optimistically.

"Maybe there will be some cute boys," the nurse winked. _If only you knew, lady._

The doors slid open, and they wheeled Santana out. The nurse approached two large steel doors and buzzed them in.

"Welcome," another nurse said, smiling that probably-fake smile that Santana was familiar with around these parts.

"Santana Lopez," the nurse wheeling her said to the reception desk.

The receptionist handed her a clipboard. "Have her mother fill this out, please."

Mrs. Lopez took the board. "I'll fill this out, don't worry, honey."

The nurse wheeled Santana into the waiting room. Santana surveyed her surroundings. A few other teenagers were in there. One had black and blue hair, and was curled up into a ball. She was rocking back and forth, huddled and looking ragged. She instantly reminded Santana of Kurt, so she looked away. There was a tall boy standing in the corner talking to himself and occasionally punching the wall. She averted her gaze away from him and focused on another girl around her age that had track marks on her arm. She sighed and looked at the TV that was bolted to the wall. Nothing was on but some boring show about fancy pets. Some day, she thought. She closed her eyes and waited for it to all be over.

"Take a seat over there, Mr. Hummel." Santana's eyes flew open, and she looked sharply to her left. Her eyes lit up.

"Kurt!" she cried joyously.

"Santana?" He ran over to her and wrapped her in a gentle hug.

"What are you…?"

"Kurt, why are you…?"

They laughed. "This is what I was trying to tell you the other day on the phone!" she said.

Kurt sighed. "Thank God, I thought you were going to tell me that Brittany had finally dumped Artie for you."

Santana made a face. "No," she said wistfully.

"Santana Lopez? We're ready for you now," a doctor called to her.

"See you later," Kurt gave a sad wave.

Santana's mother wheeled her into the examining room.

"Hi, Santana, I'm Dr. Place. Do you mind if I ask you some personal questions?"

"Fire away," she said, feeling a boost of confidence knowing that Kurt was there, too.

"Are you sexually active?"

"Yes," she didn't dare lie.

"For how long would you say?"

"Since I was about 14."

The doctor made a note of this. "Do you use protection?"

"Sometimes," she admitted.

Another note was made. "Were you ever sexually abused as a child?"

She cast her eyes downwards. "No," she lied.

"Santana, you can't lie. Have you ever been sexually abused?"

"No," she said again, staring into the doctor's eyes and speaking confidently.

He looked at her questioningly, but made a note. "Could you be considered dangerous in any way to the other patients?"

"No," she said firmly.

"You've never abused drugs or alcohol?"

"No."

"Never handled a gun or other weapon, such as a knife?"

"No, only a razor, and that was only on myself."

"And you don't smoke?"

"I find smoking incredibly unattractive."

The doctor noted this. "So you're in overall good health?"

"Yes, I'd say so."

"No history of eating disorders?"

"Nope."

"Can you tell me, in your own words, why you think you are here today?"

"I'm a cutter. And I was driving recklessly and caused a huge accident. That's why I have three broken ribs and a broken leg and arm."

"And why do you cut, Santana?"

She paused. "Because I'm in love with my best friend. My best girl friend. And she doesn't want me. And we've, you know, fooled around, so that makes it even harder. And only one person knows I'm gay. I've been having a lot of trouble accepting it…"

Meanwhile, Kurt was subject to the same kind of questioning.

"Have you ever been sexually assaulted?"

"Yes," a tear rolled down his cheek.

"By whom?"

"A bully in my school. Dave. He…he raped me…twice."

"Did you tell anyone?"

"Only my friend, Santana."

"Did he verbally abuse you, too?"

Kurt nodded. "Yes, all the time."

"But you don't drink, do drugs or smoke?"

"That is correct."

"Why are you here, Kurt?"

"I tried to kill myself."

The doctor softened a tiny bit. "How?"

"I tried to burn myself to death."

The doctor flinched. Even in her field, this was unusual.

"Why did you end up a survivor?"

"My…friend…he saved me."

"A friend or a boyfriend?"

"A friend. I mean, I have feelings for him, but he's totally straight."

"Why did he save you, Kurt?"

"I don't know," Kurt felt another tear fall.

"Before last week, had you ever purposely burned yourself?"

"Yes, yes I have."

"For how long would you say?"

Kurt thought. "8 years," he said.

The doctor scribbled a note down on her pad. "Well, we're going to admit you, Kurt."

He sighed; he'd been afraid of that. "Okay," he said in a small voice.

The doctor patted his knee. "You'll be fine," she assured him.

Santana was being admitted, too. When she came back out, she chanced a closer look at the other girl. Her hair was thick and slightly tangled, skin pale as chalk and pasty. Deep brown eyes darted around the room, resting on each and every occupant as if analyzing their every thought. The Latina girl couldn't help but notice the way the other girl shook so tremulously, sweat pouring down her face. She almost looked like an addict in withdrawal, craving a fix. It became clear that it was fear and not drugs, however, that was causing this, because when a male orderly approached her to gently take her arm, she flinched away violently, a strangled, almost keening sound erupting from her throat as she shook her head repetitively, looking up at him pleadingly. He backed away a bit, hands where she could see them.

Santana wanted to keep looking, but couldn't, as she was being led away to another exam room. She was waved down by a metal detector. Once they decreed her clean, they quickly patted her down. They didn't have much to check, as she was still in her dingy hospital gown.

"We're going to examine you now, Santana," they told her. A female nurse gently checked her out, mindful of her casts and bandages. When they neared her private parts, Santana flinched. "I'm sorry, does that hurt?" The nurse asked. "No," Santana said, shaking it off. _She didn't need that memory, not now…_

In a men's examination room a few doors down, Kurt was going through the same thing. He was stripped down, completely naked. As the male nurses' hands traveled lower, Kurt began to cry. "I'm sorry, son, but I have to do this," the nurse told him. Kurt shook, trying to push out the memories of Karofsky. Kurt didn't even like to wash down there after the two rapes, let alone have a doctor check him out. "You can get dressed now," he told Kurt. Kurt put on his sweater and jeans carefully, flinching a little.

Santana and Kurt met up again in that waiting room. He went up and hugged her immediately, both crying.

"Do you two know each other?" A friendly orderly asked.

Kurt pulled away from her. "We go to school together. We're…we're really good friends."

Santana nodded. "Kurt's the only one that understands me."

The orderly smiled. "Well, we'll try to keep you two together then, at least until you two settle in and make friends. Are you ready to go up to the ward now?"

They looked at each other. Kurt took Santana's good hand.

"We're ready," he said.

_Were they really?_


	4. What Do You Say?

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.**

**Note: Okay, first things first, I'm SO sorry for the lack of update! I had a MAJOR Senior deadline on Thursday, so I spent most of Wednesday working on that. Then, I had dance class last night, so that was out. And I can't post tonight, so I'm posting tomorrow (Saturday). I'm also posting a steamy Puck/Kurt oneshot that I wrote the other night. So you really should go read that one. Also, if you prefer Klaine, I recently posted a Klaine oneshot, called "Even More Love Notes" (sequel to my infamous "Love Notes" oneshot). Review!**

**Note 2: Don't worry; songs will start coming in most likely in the next chapter. These first few chapters are basically just to get them up there and set the story up. **

Santana and Kurt got their first glances of the ward once the orderly took them upstairs.  
>"Well, this is it!" He said cheerfully. The ward was a big circular room with the nurse's station and the main locked doors at one end, and bedrooms all around the main room, boys on one side and girls on the opposite side. There were windows along the side opposite the nurse's station, all hard Plexiglas that was literally impossible to break. There were pleather chairs in a circle around the room, and a few tables here and there with cards and other assorted items. Patients were able to hang out in the main room when there weren't activities and it wasn't specified 'room time'.<p>

"Okay, so here's the daily schedule," the orderly said, handing them each a sheet of paper. Kurt looked at it as if it might be a bomb. He read it carefully.

**7****:00 a.m.: Wake-up**

**7:30: Breakfast**

**8:00-8:30: Get ready for the day/clean up rooms. Doctors come and do rounds at this time.**

**8:30****: Goals group **

**8:30-9:30: Work on goals **

**9:30: Morning snack/free time **

**10:00: School**

**12:00: Lunch**

**12:30-2:00: Free time**

**2:00-3:00: Group therapy**

**3:00: Goals group **

**4****:00-5:30: Fitness**

**5:30-6:30: Dinner and free time**

**6:30-7:30: Intellectual or therapeutic group **

**7:30-9:30: Activity time **

**9:30: Room time/showers/get ready for bed**

**10:00: Lights-out**

"Okay, so you're telling me I have to get up at 7:30 _every day_?" Santana asked incredulously.

"Yep," the orderly said.

"That's whack," she muttered.

"Goals? Fitness? _Therapeutic group_?" Kurt asked with disdain.

"Fitness could mean a video game, like Wii Fit, or you could do Yoga," the orderly assured him. "And therapeutic group is actually quite nice."

Kurt sighed. "Fine. But do we have to have roommates?"

The orderly paused. "If you're _really_ uncomfortable, you could request a single…"

"Put me in a single," Kurt said firmly. He wasn't taking any chances that his roommate would be a homophobe, or that he would fall for them.  
>"Okay," the orderly said, uneasy. He made a note on a spare sheet of paper. "Santana, would you perhaps like to get settled in your room while I get Kurt's room situation sorted out?"<p>

"Okay, I guess," she said. He wheeled her into one of the girl's bedrooms. "You'll have a nurse attend to you, seeing your injuries. She'll help you shower, get dressed, et cetera. Kurt can help you get around, if you like."

"Sure," she shrugged.

"Your roommate is Tallulah. She'll be up soon."

"'kay," Santana waved him off. Santana looked at her new room. There wasn't much in it; just two beds and two dressers. She sighed impatiently. Maybe this 'healing' thing wasn't all it was cracked up to be…

"Okay, Kurt, I've got you all sorted out," the orderly said, jogging back to Kurt. He led him to a room that, if Kurt looked across from his doorway, he could see Santana's room. "Here you go!"

Kurt looked around. A bed and a dresser, certainly not the Hilton. "No mirror?"

The orderly looked uneasy again. "No. They could be considered dangerous, especially to patients with eating disorders and self-esteem issues."

"Oh," Kurt said in a small voice.

"Don't worry, son. You'll be fine, I'm sure."

Kurt nodded quietly. "So what do we do now?"

"Well, since everyone is just arriving today, you'll get quite a lot of free time. You'll probably be free until after lunch, when you'll work on your goals."

"What kind of goals?" Kurt asked, slightly curious.

"Oh, just goals on what you want to accomplish while you're here."

Kurt nodded again. "So finding a boyfriend isn't an appropriate goal, is it?" He laughed in spite of himself.

The orderly chuckled. "More so, 'my goal is to get over my depression'."

Kurt smiled. "That would be nice," he said softly.

The black-and-blue haired girl that Santana had seen in the waiting room appeared in Santana's doorway, still silent.

"Hi, I'm Santana," Santana said, sticking out her hand in greeting. The girl didn't move. "Are you Tallulah?" Santana asked.

The girl stood in the doorway, shaking. "Hey, are you okay?" Santana asked. The girl turned and ran.

"Whoa, there," a female orderly said. "Hi, there, are you…Santana?" She checked the nameplate on the door.

"Yeah," Santana said, looking slightly confused.

"This is Tallulah, your roommate. She's a bit…skittish."

Santana smiled warmly. "I won't hurt her. I can't even get out of this chair."

The orderly chuckled. "Yes, but she doesn't know that. Tallulah, this is Santana. She's going to be your roommate. She won't hurt you." Tallulah looked in the room wearily, eyes wide. She looked as if she could up and run at any moment.

"Santana was in a car accident," the orderly explained. "She broke her leg, and her arm. She can't walk for a few weeks, so she has to use a wheelchair. She won't hurt you."  
>Tallulah took a step into the room. "That's it," the orderly encouraged her.<p>

Santana smiled again. "I promise, I won't do anything. I, um, I think your hair is really cool," she added.

Tallulah seemed to ease up a fraction. She looked as if she were about to thank Santana, but then she drew back.

"Well, I'll leave you ladies to settle in," the orderly said. "Santana, do you need any help?"

"No, I think I'm good for right now, thanks," Santana said. The orderly smiled and walked out to continue her duties.

Kurt strode across the hall, stopping in Santana's doorway, unsure if he could go in or not. "All good, Santana?"

Santana nodded. "Yep. Hey, Kurt, this is Tallulah. She's my roomie."

"Hi," Kurt said. "I'm Kurt Hummel." He stuck out a hand in welcome, just as Santana had done. Tallulah backed away from him, retreating to the other side of the room, cowering in the corner.

"What did I do?" Kurt asked, worriedly.

"She's…skittish," Santana told him.

Kurt knit his brows. "Oh. Okay."

"Come on, let's explore," Santana said. Kurt grabbed hold of her chair and led her out of the room. There actually wasn't much to explore; just the kitchen, really. They saw some of the other patients on their way. There was the same boy that Santana had seen downstairs, the one punching the wall. There was a mix of boys and girls, mostly girls. Kurt looked around uncomfortably; what if he was the only gay person there? What if there was a homophobic person there, and there was a repeat of the Karofsky incident?

_What if no one at home remembers me?_

Santana must've read his mind, because she threw a glance over her shoulder and said "Don't worry. They'll remember you, Kurt."

"But what if they don't?" Kurt said hotly.

"Finn wouldn't forget you, he's your stepbrother," Santana rolled her eyes. "And I'm sure Artie and Quinn and Brittany will write you. Mike and Tina, too. Maybe even Rachel will, or your friend from Dalton, what's-his-face."

"Blaine," Kurt said sadly. _What will Blaine think_?

"And I'm betting Puck will write to you," Santana whispered suggestively.

"Wha," Kurt sputtered. "What's that suggestive whisper supposed to mean, Santana?"

"Kurt, come on, we all know that you're in love with Puck."

"We all?"

"It's obvious, baby."

Kurt looked stung. "Did I say something wrong?" Santana asked, concerned.

"No," Kurt whispered. "I just want to know…"

"…why he saved you?"

"Yeah," Kurt said softly.

Santana shrugged. "Noah's full of surprises."

"So is Sam," Kurt pointed out. It was Santana's turn to look stung.

"Why hasn't he called?" She asked quietly.

"I don't know," Kurt said honestly. "Maybe he finally caught on that you're into Britt."

"I don't want to hurt him," Santana moaned. "Sam's such a nice guy! A total idiot sometimes, but he's so nice…and Quinn already hurt him. I don't…"

"Sam's a big boy. He'll understand."

Santana grinned wickedly. "A big boy, you say?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Kurt said, holding up his hands.

"Didn't you see him in the shower once?"

"No comment," Kurt grinned.

Santana laughed, feeling better. "I love you, Kurt."

Kurt looked at her tenderly, like a sister. "I love you too, Santana."

_Back at McKinley_

"What a weekend to visit my grandparents in Columbus," Sam groaned.

"And now your girlfriend's in the mental hospital. Way to go, Evans," Lauren said, clapping him on the back.

"Lauren, you know very well that it's the psychiatric ward at Lima Mercy," Mr. Schuester reprimanded her.

"I can't believe Kurt's there, too," Rachel murmured. She glared at Finn for good measure.

"IT'S NOT MY FAULT, RACHEL!" Finn yelled angrily.

"Whatever," she rolled her eyes.

Puck crossed his arms. "I'm worried about little du—about Kurt."

"Why are you worried, Puckerman?" Quinn asked sarcastically.

"Um, in case you didn't know, Princess, I fucking SAVED HIS LIFE when he attempted to KILL HIMSELF," Puck said to her, growing more heated with each word.

"Chill," Quinn said, holding up her hands.

"Easy for you to say. You didn't see him almost DIE."

"That's enough, guys," Mr. Schue said, trying to calm them down. "We just have to be supportive of Kurt and Santana. Here, why don't we make your assignment for tonight to write a letter to each of them?"

"Great idea," Rachel said.

"I never learned how to write letters," Brittany deadpanned.

"I'll help you," Quinn whispered to her.

"Um, Mr. Schue?" Artie raised his hand.

"Yes, Artie?"

"Never mind," Artie said, lowering his hand, embarrassed.

"Oh…kay," Mr. Schue said, looking confused. "Anyway, I want you all to write a letter, no shorter than half a page, to both Kurt and Santana. And Rachel?" He looked at the diva. "Don't…don't say anything about competitions or anything like that. Be _nice_," he warned. "Because I'm proofreading all of these before I send them out."

They groaned. "I'm sorry, guys, but this _is_ homework, after all."

Puck sat back. He knew what to say to Santana.

But he didn't know what in the world he was going to say to Kurt.

_Dear Kurt…_


	5. Blackbird

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or "Blackbird".**

**Note: Ah, this is getting harder and harder to write…I fear, loyal readers, that this will not be as good as its predecessor, "Playing With Fire". But I won't give up on this! In this chapter, we see the first song of the story. Review this, if you like. And since you guys seem to like Purt, check out my new Purt oneshot, "Thanks For the Memories". **

It was Day One on the adolescent psychiatric ward at Lima Mercy Hospital, and Kurt was apprehensive of what was to come. He was awake far before the 7:30 wake-up call, staring at the ceiling and wondering what was in store for the day. He missed the freedom of being able to walk around in the middle of the night, to listen to his iPod and to do whatever he pleased.

_And, most of all, he missed the flames._

Twice in the middle of the night, Kurt had woken up in a cold sweat, looking for a book of matches or a lighter with which he could bring back the pain. He hadn't burned anything since the day he attempted to take his life, and, like an addict, he needed a fix to keep him going. His hands shook, and it took him what seemed like forever to get back to sleep again. The mattresses reminded him of the one summer he'd spent at sleep-away camp; slightly hard and smelly. He longed for his soft mattress at home with the down comforter and goose-feather pillows.

Thankfully, 7:30 came faster than he'd thought, and the nurses came around to unlock the bedroom doors. Kurt looked across the hall and waved to Santana before heading to the kitchen for breakfast. He surveyed his dining options; not much, he saw. He decided to just have some toast. He wasn't very hungry, anyway. He'd lost his appetite somewhere between Mercedes' death and his suicide attempt. Santana was pushed up to a spot next to him.  
>"Sleep well?"<p>

"No," he admitted. "I kept waking up in a sweat, wanting to…you know."

Santana sighed. "I know. Me, too. Besides that, I couldn't get in a comfortable enough position so that I wasn't laying on my bad arm or my bad leg."

"Sucks," Kurt muttered, staring at the crumbs on his plate.

"Not hungry?"

"No," he said quietly.

"Well, I'm starving. Pass me those eggs, please?" Kurt did so, relieved to have something to distract him, only if it was just for a moment. Santana dug right in.

"How can you _eat_?" Kurt asked in awe.

"Stress makes me eat," she mumbled around her food. "And I'm hella stressed."

He pushed his empty plate away and groaned. He suddenly felt sick to his stomach. "Bathroom," he muttered, running off towards the bathrooms. He shut himself in a stall, dropped to his knees, and puked up his small breakfast. Groaning, he wiped his mouth off with toilet paper and flushed. _Fuck,_ he thought. _Just what I need._ He stayed in the bathroom for a few more minutes. By the time he wandered back out to the main room, it was time to get ready for the day. Kurt went to his room and shimmied out of his pajamas, slipping on his "glamour" sweats. The doctor came and checked in on him. Kurt didn't have the heart to tell him that he'd thrown up that morning; he just stuck out his arm for blood pressure and his tongue for temperature. Once his vitals were approved, he slipped out to the main room again, sitting down in one of the folding chairs that had been set up. A whiteboard had been wheeled into the room in the interim, and he looked at it, curious. He looked around at the other people around him.

"Hi," a girl who'd come in and sat next to him said.

"Hi," he said back with a quick nod.

"I'm Samantha," she said, smiling shyly to reveal braces.

"Kurt," he said, giving a tiny smile back.

"How old are you?"

"Sixteen," Kurt replied.

"Oh. I'm fourteen," Samantha said. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

"No. I'm gay."

Samantha looked disappointed. "Oh."

"Sorry," Kurt shrugged. "Why are you here?"

"I'm a nympho."

Kurt's eyes widened. "Um, wow."

She laughed. "I get that reaction a lot."

Kurt couldn't help but to stare at her. She had medium-length brown hair and light brown eyes. She wore a pink shirt and plain blue jeans. In short, she looked…well, _innocent_.

"So why are you here, Kurt?"

Kurt snapped back to attention. "Oh. I'm a pyro."

She looked surprised. "Interesting," she licked her lips.

Kurt shuffled his feet and waited for Santana to come out of her room. She was wheeled up to the empty space on the other side of Kurt.

"Well, now that we're all ready, it's time for our first goals group!" an all-too perky nurse said cheerfully.

Kurt rolled his eyes. _This was gonna be a long day…_

Puck threw away yet another piece of paper. This was his fourth failed attempt at a letter to Kurt. What do you say to a person whose life you saved? What to you say to a person whose life you saved _who was in love with you_?

"Dear Kurt," Puck started to write in his messy boy scrawl.

"How are you? I'm fine. Mr. Schue did the craziest thing the other day. He was actually rapping and trying to-"

Puck groaned in frustration and threw away the lame attempt.

"Yo, Little Dude,"

"No," Puck said, throwing away the even worse attempt. He tapped his pen on the desk, thanking God that there was such a thing as Study Hall. He'd been up all night trying to think of what to write to Kurt, and he was getting nowhere fast.

"Dear Kurt," he finally wrote.

"I honestly don't know what to say to you. I keep thinking about the last time I saw you. You were so vulnerable, so scared, and yet, so happy to see me. I thought you'd be pissed at me, you know, 'cause I tattled on you and all. But, uh, you were happy. To see me, that is. Kurt, I'm just so confused about our friendship. We're friends, right, buddy? I hope we are. Um, when you hugged me? Back at the hospital? Normally, I don't hug other dudes. You know that. But, um, when you hugged me? It felt really good, Kurt. Like, really good. And I don't know why. Kurt, I bet you want to know why I saved you that night. I…I can't tell you. At least, not in a letter. I gotta tell you this in person. If you're allowed to like, have visitors, let me know. I wanna tell you. But in person, okay, little dude? Okay. Well, I hope you're doing better. 'Cause I want you to get better.

Your pal,

Puck"

Puck smiled to himself. "Perfect." He put it in his backpack with his letter to Santana to give to Mr. Schue. On his way out of Study Hall, he passed by Schue's office. "Hey, Mr. Schuester, I just wanted to give you the letters now. They'll probably get wrecked in my bag by the end of the day."

"Great, Puck, let me read them over real quick."

Puck handed the two pieces of paper to his teacher. Mr. Schue scanned first the letter to Santana, and then the letter to Kurt.

He frowned, then smiled a little. "That's very heartfelt, Puck. I'm surprised."

"What, that I have rare moments of compassion?"

Mr. Schue looked taken aback. "Well, yes."

Puck rolled his eyes. "Look, I saved his life, all right? It's the least I can do."

"Okay, Puck. I'll send these out with the others later today." Puck nodded in thanks and stalked out of the room with his usual Puckerman swagger. Mr. Schue re-read the letter to Kurt. He wondered just why, exactly, Puck had saved Kurt.

"Free time," the peppy nurse sang cheerfully. Kurt sighed. He'd picked at his dinner, still not hungry and not wanting to have a repeat of that morning. He had some time before the next group session, so he retreated to his room. His bed was messy, so he decided to re-make it. He stripped off the sheets and began to sing softly to himself, a familiar song that he hadn't sung or heard since he left Dalton Academy.

_Blackbird, singing in the dead of night  
><em>_Take these broken wings and learn to fly  
><em>_All your life  
><em>_You were only waiting for this moment to arise_

He liked this song. One would think that Kurt only liked songs from musicals, or else Britney Spears or Madonna songs, but Kurt had taken a liking to the Beatles. His dad would play Beatles records after his mom died, and Kurt liked dancing around to "Twist and Shout". Beatles songs made Kurt feel better. They made him feel safe and secure, they were familiar, and they were fairly easy to sing in the shower.

_Blackbird, singing in the dead of night  
><em>_Take these sunken eyes and learn to see  
><em>_All your life  
><em>_You were only waiting for this moment to be free_

These sunken eyes, Kurt thought. His eyes had consistently looked sunken since his quick spiral downwards upon returning from Dalton. Every time he looked in the mirror, he saw those blue-grey eyes staring back at him, sunken and empty. They were hollow and scared and tired all at the same time, and Kurt didn't recognize them anymore. They used to sparkle and be full of life and energy. Now they were just tired and dull. They were no longer the pretty eyes that everyone knew and loved.

_Blackbird, fly  
><em>_Blackbird, fly  
><em>_Into the light of the dark black night_

He wished he could be a blackbird. He wished he could fly, fly away from this cold, unfamiliar place. He wished he could fly into the light of another world, a world where bullies and pain and suffering didn't exist. A world where your loved ones never left you, especially your parents. A world where you didn't have to torture yourself in order to feel whole and complete. Into the light of the dark black night that Kurt found himself living in all the time.  
><em><br>Blackbird, fly  
><em>_Blackbird, fly  
><em>_Into the light of the dark black night_

Tallulah, who was standing facing the windows, perked up slightly at the sound of a high pitched, sweet voice. It was mystical; haunting, almost. She trailed her fingers over the white painted brick of the wall, making her way tentatively towards the melodic sound. When she stopped outside the room it was coming from, she pressed herself tightly against the wall, peeking around the corner just enough to see who was singing. Her breath hitched when she saw it was Kurt, and she quickly pulled her head back so he couldn't see her.

_Blackbird, singing in the dead of night  
><em>_Take these broken wings and learn to fly  
><em>_All your life  
><em>_You were only waiting for this moment to arise_

As the voice washed over her, Tallulah's face became the picture of wonder. Her cheek pressed to the cool, smooth brick, she let her eyes fall closed in serenity. Her hand came up, pressing to her cheek and pushing her hair back, a soft smile falling across her lips, something that was so rarely seen that it could stop anyone in their tracks. Her face, pale and worn, was heartbreakingly beautiful in an ethereal way despite the mass of wavy hair that often covered it. Her fingers tapped almost silently against the wall next to her face, picking out the rhythm of the song easily. Surprisingly, a rough, almost ragged noise came from her throat; she was humming. Her unused, rusted over vocal cords hit the right notes, however rough it sounded. She didn't even seem to realize she was making the pitiful sound, so lost in thoughts was she.

_You were only waiting for this moment to arise  
><em>_You were only waiting for this moment to arise_

Kurt heard a noise outside his door, and turned to look. "Tallulah?" He asked carefully. She looked up, eyes wide, very much resembling a deer in the headlights. "I won't hurt you, I promise," he reached out to her. She emitted a shriek like a banshee and stumbled backwards, tripping over one of the chairs in the middle of the room. She lay on the floor, huddled up in a ball, continuing to shriek. A few nurses came running over to her. Kurt stood in the doorway to his room, unsure on what to do.

"What happened here?" A nurse asked him.

"I—I don't know—I was just—and then she screamed and ran-"

"We're administering a sedative," one of the nurses checking on Tallulah said. They did so, and she went limp. They carried her off into the room she shared with Santana. Kurt caught sight of her as they took her away. Tearstains streaked her pale cheeks, and her hair was matted and in her face. He saw Santana look at her in concern. "What happened?" She mouthed to him. He shook his head. He wasn't sure exactly what had happened, or why she was so afraid of men. He wasn't sure why she'd been mute the entire time that they'd been up there, or why she chose to be that way. He wondered what pain Tallulah was carrying, and if it matched his in any way. He leaned back against the doorframe and watched as the nurses laid her gently on the bed.

_Blackbird, fly,_ Kurt thought to himself.

_Fly…_

_Fly…_

_Fly… _


	6. Angel

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or "Angel". **

**Note: This was a favorite chapter to write. Can't you imagine this song in Jenna's voice? So beautiful, and so fitting. On a total upside, "Night of Neglect" premieres tomorrow! Are we excited, Gleeks? I know I am! Please keep reviewing this one, and if you want a new drama fic, go check out my latest oneshot, "Intervention" (yes, it does revolve around Kurt). **

Tina raised her hand timidly at Glee club the next day.

"Yes, Tina?"

"I'd like to sing something for Kurt and Santana today…if that's okay."

"Yeah, the choir room feels empty without them," Quinn added.

"I agree," Mr. Schuester said. "Yes, Tina, you may sing something for them. I think that would be very meaningful and nice."

Tina walked up and took a seat at the piano, waving off Brad, the pianist. She took a deep breath and began to play a familiar, lovely tune.

_Spend all your time waiting  
>For that second chance<br>For a break that would make it okay  
>There's always some reason<br>To feel not good enough_

Up on the psych ward, Kurt was sitting in a group therapy session. There was always a reason to feel not good enough, he thought, be it whatever. I waited eight years for a second chance, and this is it? I waited this long for…what?

"Kurt, pay attention, please," the nurse reprimanded him.

"Sorry," he muttered.

"Is there something you'd like to share with the rest of the group?"

Kurt sighed. "There's always some reason, isn't there?"

"A reason to what, Kurt?" The nurse prompted him.

"To not feel good enough," Kurt stated.

"That's true," the nurse nodded. "But for every reason there is to not feel good enough, there's a reason to, in fact, feel good enough."

Kurt looked away, scowling. "Kurt, what don't you feel good enough for right now?"  
><em><br>And it's hard at the end of the day  
>I need some distraction<br>Oh, beautiful release  
>Memories seep from my veins<em>

Kurt sighed. "I don't feel good enough for…somebody."

"Let's use this as an example, everyone. Go on, Kurt. Who don't you feel good enough for?"

Kurt stared into the void. "Kurt?" The nurse asked again. "Who don't you feel good enough for?"

Kurt kept staring. Santana nudged him. "Babe?" She asked, wondering what was up.

"Just someone," Kurt whispered. "Just someone."  
><em><br>Let me be empty  
>And weightless and maybe<br>I'll find some peace tonight_

"Can you tell us who you don't feel good enough for?"

Kurt blinked rapidly.

"Is it a parent?"

Kurt shook his head forcibly.

"Another family member?" The nurse tried again.

Kurt shook his head for the second time.

The nurse softened. "A love interest?"  
><em><br>_Kurt nodded curtly. "I don't feel good enough for them," he whispered. "Not good enough at all."  
><em><br>In the arms of the angel  
>Fly away from here<br>From this dark cold hotel room  
>And the endlessness that you fear<em>

"Who can relate to Kurt's situation?"

Every single hand went up.

"We've just made our first real bond," the nurse said softly. "Maybe what we could do is to go around the circle and say why we don't feel good enough for a love interest?"

Santana froze. "No," she mouthed to Kurt. He shrugged. What could he do? It wasn't his idea. Santana slumped down in her wheelchair, wincing as her broken arm suddenly hit the arm of the chair. She didn't want to talk about why she never felt good enough. She didn't want to talk about why she'd never be good enough for Brittany, why Britt had chosen Artie over her. She didn't want to deal with this at all. Maybe she could just refuse to talk…maybe she could just fly away from here somehow…maybe…maybe…

_You are pulled from the wreckage  
>Of your silent reverie<br>You're in the arms of the angel  
>May you find some comfort here<em>

Tina blinked back a few tears from her eyes. She missed Kurt, and, though she didn't want to admit it, she missed Santana, too. But most of all, she missed Mercedes. Beautiful, big, and bouncy Mercedes was the closest thing that Tina had had to a sister, and now that Mercedes was gone, Tina felt alone. It was true that she had Mike for a boyfriend, but he was always playing football or hanging with "the guys". Tina didn't want to hang out with Quinn or Brittany, and she wasn't about to resort to Rachel. She held her head up high and sang for them; Mercedes, Kurt, and Santana.  
><em><br>So tired of the straight line  
>And everywhere you turn<br>There's vultures and thieves at your back  
>And the storm keeps on twisting<em>

"Kurt, perhaps you'd like to begin?"

Kurt sighed, but stood up anyway. "First of all, I'm gay. If you hadn't figured that out already," he chuckled. "And there's this guy at my school—well, Santana's school, too—who's sort of the…the promiscuous guy. His name is Puck. Well, Noah Puckerman, but everyone calls him Puck. He's…he has a really good voice. And he can play the guitar." Kurt realized that this sounded lame and looked to see if he could sit down, but the nurse motioned for him to continue. "Anyway," Kurt hastened on, "Puck got his best friend's girlfriend pregnant, right? Well, never mind, that's another story. Puck's really handsome, really, really handsome. And I don't know, I guess I fell for first his looks and then his bad-boy qualities."

"Why don't you feel good enough for him?"

Kurt gulped. "He's straight," Kurt mumbled. "And he'd never go for a preppy, fashionable type like me…Puck's on the football team…and he'd just never go for a guy like me. If he liked guys, that is." Kurt gulped again and sat back down.  
><em><br>You keep on building the lies  
>That you make up for all that you lack<br>It don't make no difference  
>Escaping one last time<em>

That's what Kurt did, wasn't it? He kept on building the lies. He built them to make up for what he lacked, and Kurt thought that he lacked a lot. He slid down in his seat, matching Santana, as he paid vague attention to the stories the rest of the group wove. He'd tried to escape one last time, it was true. But where had that gotten him? Oh, right, it had gotten him here, he thought bitterly. It hadn't gotten me to Mama, or to Mercedes. What would they think? What would my Mom think if she saw me here, falling apart, barely breathing? What would Mercedes think? Oh, Mama, I didn't mean to make you upset, didn't meant to make you cry…  
><em><br>It's easier to believe in this sweet madness, oh  
>This glorious sadness that brings me to my knees<em>

This sweet madness, the sweet madness that Kurt found himself both drowning and reveling in. It was the sweetest, most wonderful madness that Kurt had ever tasted, and he loved it, simply loved it. The madness turned into sadness, glorious sadness. It brought him to his knees, and he found himself almost in prayed position, worshipping it. He worshipped the sadness as if though it were a God or other deity. It was just so glorious, so wonderful, and so ultimately tragic that it was a wonder Kurt didn't get lost in it.  
><em><br>In the arms of the angel  
>Fly away from here<br>From this dark cold hotel room  
>And the endlessness that you fear<em>

It was finally time for Santana to speak. "Santana, you're the last one."

Santana pulled herself up, wincing because her ribs hurt. Kurt looked to her, asking if she wanted help. She shook her head slowly; she had to do this by herself. Santana Lopez was an independent woman, and no amount of broken bones was going to stop her from doing things her way. "I don't feel good enough for…" her voice broke off.

"For whom?" The nurse prodded her.

Kurt reached over and squeezed her hand, and Santana willed herself not to cry. "Her name is Brittany," Santana whispered. She's my best friend. And I'm in love with her. We've fooled around before, and it was really, really nice. But then she started going out with Artie, another kid in our Glee club, and it wasn't until it was too late that I realized I liked her as more than a friend." She stopped to collect her thoughts for a moment. "And I couldn't take it anymore, and I told her. But she said she wouldn't break up with Artie for me. That she liked the 'feelings' that were involved with her. And at that moment, I really did not feel good enough for her."

Kurt squeezed her hand harder, and Santana flinched. "Sorry," he mouthed.

_You are pulled from the wreckage  
><em>_Of your silent reverie  
>You're in the arms of the angel<br>May you find some comfort here_

Artie reached over and held Brittany's hand. She smiled, and reached over to hold Quinn's hand. Quinn got the message and went for Finn's hand. It was only a few moments more before they were all holding hands, all connected, all one. Mr. Schue nodded and smiled. He went over to Tina and put a hand on her shoulder, finishing the connection. Tina smiled and, mind full of thoughts of her fallen and missing friends, finished out the song beautifully.  
><em><br>You're in the arms of the angel  
>May you find some comfort here<em>

Kurt shivered.

"What's wrong?" Santana asked, eyes full of sudden worry.

"I think we have a guardian angel," Kurt whispered.

_Actually, they had eleven of them at McKinley and two in Heaven. _


	7. Jar of Hearts

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or "Jar of Hearts".**

**Note: So I have a fever but I'm going to write this for you anyway! If it's not up to standard, you know why. If it's better than normal…then I need to be sick more? Anyway, let's keep reviewing!**

"Kurt, you have some letters," the nurse handed him a stack of letters.

"Some?" He asked bemusedly.

"You have a lot of friends," she smiled.

"Yes," he whispered. "I do. I guess. Thanks."

Once the nurse disappeared, Kurt opened the first letter.

"Dear Kurt,

I hope you're doing better. I miss you. Keep singing! Here, I've included a gold star sticker to bring you good luck.

Love, Rachel Barbra Berry"

Kurt chuckled. He knew that Rachel would never be that nice to him in person, and that

Mr. Schue had probably made her write that. He tossed it aside and opened the next one.

"Dear Kurt,

How are you? I am good. My cat is good, too. But the cricket that reads to me at night is still stealing my jewelry. I hope you're feeling better. I wrote a book report on sad people. I can send it to you if you want. It got knocked down a letter grade because it was written in eyeliner.

Love, Brittany

P.S. Quinn helped me write this. I never learned how to write letters."

Kurt laughed. "Oh, Britt," he shook his head. He went through the letters, one by one. They were all from the New Directions kids, so he knew that it had definitely been some sort of assignment. The last letter he reached for was Puck's.

"Dear Kurt,

"I honestly don't know what to say to you. I keep thinking about the last time I saw you. You were so vulnerable, so scared, and yet, so happy to see me. I thought you'd be pissed at me, you know, 'cause I tattled on you and all. But, uh, you were happy. To see me, that is. Kurt, I'm just so confused about our friendship. We're friends, right, buddy? I hope we are. Um, when you hugged me? Back at the hospital? Normally, I don't hug other dudes. You know that. But, um, when you hugged me? It felt really good, Kurt. Like, really good. And I don't know why. Kurt, I bet you want to know why I saved you that night. I…I can't tell you. At least, not in a letter. I gotta tell you this in person. If you're allowed to like, have visitors, let me know. I wanna tell you. But in person, okay, little dude? Okay. Well, I hope you're doing better. 'Cause I want you to get better.

Your pal,

Puck"

Kurt frowned. What the hell did Puck mean by all of that? What did he mean by the hug feeling good? What did he mean by wanting to talk to him in person? Kurt took a deep breath and re-read the letter. He only got more confused as he read it again. He shook his head and began to sing softly.

_I know I can't take one more step towards you  
>Cause all that's waiting is regret<br>And don't you know I'm not your ghost anymore?  
>You lost the love<br>I loved the most_

No, I can't take another step towards him, Kurt thought. I really, really can't. The only thing that there is regret. He'll lead me on…he _is_ leading me on. And Kurt didn't want to be lead on by yet another guy. He knew Puck's tricks, and he knew that Puck liked to play mind games. Puck was only going to set him up for heartbreak and disappointment. Kurt didn't want to take a leap back when he was just beginning to inch forward.  
><em><br>And I learned to live, half-alive  
>And now you want me one more time<em>

Kurt did learn to live half-alive. He learned to live barely breathing, to live without a soul, and to live while his insides were dying. He learned to do that a long, long time ago. He started learning when his mother died, and kept getting better at it. He sighed and kicked the wall in anger. He hated Puck for making him feel like this, for making him love him and hate him at the same time.  
><em><br>Who do you think you are?  
>Runnin' round leaving scars<br>Collecting your jar of hearts  
>And tearing love apart <em>

Santana looked up at him, as he was starting to sing a little louder now. "Kurt?"

Kurt ignored her. He didn't want to talk to her right now. He just had to unleash his grief right now. That's all he was doing; unleashing grief. He knew that all Puck did was run around and collect hearts. He bet that Puck kept all those hearts in a jar somewhere, probably under his bed. Kurt didn't want to have his heart in that jar. But it was.  
><em><br>You're gonna catch a cold  
>From the ice inside your soul<br>So don't come back for me  
>Who do you think you are?<em>

Who did Puck think he was? Just a boy who could sweep Kurt off his feet and fall madly in love with him? Kurt wasn't that type of guy. Well, okay, he was. But he didn't like the fact that he was easily swept off his feet. He didn't like the fact that he always fell for the jock, or for the bad-boy. He didn't want Puck to come back for him; he wanted to be left alone, to be single forever. He'd rather be single forever than be with a heartbreaker and player like Noah Puckerman.  
><em><br>I hear you're asking all around  
>If I am anywhere to be found<br>But I have grown too strong  
>To ever fall back in your arms<em>

The last time Kurt saw Puck, he was in his arms. Kurt had just fallen into his arms so easily, so very easily, and he hated how vulnerable he was around Puck. Kurt wanted to be too strong to ever fall back in Puck's arms like that again. But Kurt wasn't that strong, at least, not yet. Santana looked at him curiously. What was up with Kurt all of a sudden? She craned her neck to look at the letter that Kurt had left on the chair when he'd stood up to let all this out. She noticed the messy scrawl immediately and rolled her eyes. She knew that it was Puck, and she understood why Kurt was singing this, but she wanted Kurt to get over Puck already. She'd gotten over Puck. That part was easy. But she hadn't gotten over Brittany.  
><em><br>And I learned to live, half-alive  
>And now you want me one more time<em>

Santana hung her head. She'd been living half-alive lately. Not as long as Kurt had, or as long as some of these other kids had, but she had been. It was mostly since she'd made the realization that she was gay, but she'd lived half-alive. If Brittany wanted her one more time…what would Santana do? Santana had no idea what she would do. She would probably take Brittany back. She wasn't as strong as Kurt. She couldn't say no.  
><em><br>Who do you think you are?  
>Runnin' round leaving scars<br>Collecting your jar of hearts  
>And tearing love apart<em>

Puck wasn't the only one that ran around collecting a jar of hearts. Santana knew that Brittany did the same. Brittany had kissed everyone in the damn school—even Kurt! She'd even kissed the janitor, for crying out loud! But Brittany always broke their hearts. The only heart that got away unharmed was Artie's. Santana felt a new surge of jealously towards Artie. She wished that her heart had not been broken by Brittany. She wished that she was the only one, the only one Brittany would ever love.

_You're gonna catch a cold  
>From the ice inside your soul<br>So don't come back for me  
>Who do you think you are?<em>

Kurt stomped around angrily, singing his heart out. One of the nurses came running over. "What's going on?"

Santana leaned up and whispered to her. "This is just how he gets his emotions out. He sings. I know it seems crazy, but at least it's better than him…you know."

The nurse looked at him questioningly. "I wonder…"

_Dear, it took so long just to feel alright  
>Remember how to put back the light in my eyes<br>I wish I had missed the first time that we kissed _

Kurt wished he could've missed his first kiss. His first kiss, which Karofsky had stolen from him. His first kiss, which had been so disgusting and sloppy and had made him feel nothing, nothing at all. He would've given anything to take that kiss back, done anything to have made it all better. He wished Puck would put the light back in his eyes. But he knew that Puck never would. Puck was going to make the light go out completely so that all people would see when they looked in Kurt's eyes was darkness, just pure black.

_Cause you broke all your promises  
>And now you're back<br>You don't get to get me back_

Puck wouldn't get Kurt back. He wouldn't get Kurt at all. Kurt wouldn't allow him to steal him away, to snatch him up in those arms…those strong, beautiful arms, Kurt couldn't help to think. He mentally smacked himself. He couldn't think of Puck in this way. He wanted to get Puck out of his mind. Puck had broken every promise he'd ever made. Puck had broken the promise to Quinn that he'd had the birth control thing covered, but look how that one had ended up.

_Who do you think you are?  
>Runnin' round leaving scars<br>Collecting your jar of hearts  
>And tearing love apart <em>

Everyone in the ward was watching Kurt by now. Kurt didn't see them. Kurt couldn't see anyone at all. He had completely blocked out the world around him. He didn't see or hear anything but his own voice. He didn't even see Santana crying softly to herself and whispering the lyrics along with him. If Kurt had seen this, what would he have done?  
><em><br>You're gonna catch a cold  
>From the ice inside your soul<br>So don't come back for me  
>Don't come back at all <em>

Kurt felt every word of this song right now. Puck had ice inside his soul, pure ice…or did he? After all, he had saved Kurt. He didn't have to, but he did. And he had tried to be there for Quinn during the whole baby situation. But Puck still had ice inside his soul…didn't he? And he was going to catch a cold from it. How could he not? It was just so cold, so damn cold, and Kurt could feel it as he got closer and closer to Puck. He felt the ice radiating from him, and had to draw back to save himself from the cold.  
><em><br>And who do you think you are?  
>Runnin round leaving scars<br>Collecting your jar of hearts  
>And tearing love apart <em>

Kurt picked up the letter from Puck, reading it again. He read each line and sang to this letter, sang to Puck. He wasn't believing a damn word that Puck had written, not a single damn word. Puck was just leading him on, leading him down the road to another heartbreak. Puck just wanted to collect Kurt's heart to put in his pretty little jar. Kurt wasn't going to let him. No, he wasn't going to let him.  
><em><br>You're gonna catch a cold  
>From the ice inside your soul<br>__Don't come back for me  
>Don't come back at all <em>

Kurt crumpled up the letter. He didn't want to look at it anymore. He didn't want to look at Puck's handwriting anymore, or to smell his cologne on the paper. He didn't want to look at those lies. He balled up the paper and stared at it, pretending it was Puck's heart. He wanted to crush Puck like Puck had crushed him. He wanted to hurt Puck, to hurt him so bad so that he knew what it felt like to get your heart broken.  
><em><br>Who do you think you are?  
><em>_Who do you think you are?  
>Who do you think you are?<em>

Kurt threw the crumpled-up letter into the trash. He was done with Puck, so done. He didn't want to hear about Puck, or to read about him, or to even think about him.

Santana rolled up to him awkwardly. "Kurt…that was beautiful."

"Thanks," he murmured.

"Kurt," the nurse beckoned him over. "I think I have an idea. But I'll need your help…"

_Was Kurt really over Puck? Of course not. _


	8. Perfect

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or "Fucking Perfect".**

**Note: So this song totally fits Santana, right? It works nicely in this story. I really hope you like this chapter. It was a last-minute song choice, and I hope it pays off. Besides, Jenna Ushkowitz has been constantly quoting this song on her Twitter/Facebook, so we know it's liked by someone in the cast!**

**Note 2: Yes, this song has swearing. So it's a bit of a harder "T" rating than the previous chapters. Just…be warned. **

**Note 3: Review!**

"Kurt gave me a good idea yesterday," the nurse said. "I think you should all get your feelings out in a different way…through song."

Kurt perked up. "I gave you that idea? Really?'

The nurse nodded and smiled. "You have a great voice."

Kurt blushed. "I'm in Glee club."

The nurse nodded. "So do you mind perhaps leading the group in some vocal activities from time to time? I'm wondering if perhaps each person were to sing a song of their choice every day, it could really help. It certainly is a healthy way of expressing emotion."

Kurt frowned. "Can Santana help?" He turned to his friend. "She's in Glee with me."

The nurse nodded again. "Of course she can."

Santana looked at Kurt wide-eyed. "Are you serious?"

"Don't tell Rachel," he whispered. "But I think you're the best female singer in Glee."

It was Santana's turn to blush. "You're just saying that, Kurt."

"No, I'm not," he said honestly. "You're…amazing, Santana. Come on. This could be fun! For once, _we'd_ be in charge! No Schue, no Rachel, no Finn…"

The thought was wildly appealing to Santana. She loved being in charge. And this was one thing she'd never been in charge of before.

Kurt saw the gleam in her eyes and knew her answer. "She'll help," he told the nurse.

"Great," she said. "Maybe you'd all like to think of a song to work on? And then later during free time, you can go to either Kurt or Santana and they'll help you with it?"

"Sounds good," Kurt said, brightening up.

"Santana, would you like to sing something for us, so we can get a sense of your voice?" Santana drummed her fingers on the arm of her wheelchair. "I do have one that I really like…"

"Come on up." Kurt wheeled her to the front of the group, then went to sit back down.

"This one's for Kurt," Santana whispered. "This one's for you, babe."

_Made a wrong turn once or twice  
>Dug my way out, blood and fire<br>Bad decisions, that's alright  
>Welcome to my silly life<em>

Kurt perked up. He actually knew this song! P!nk was one of Tina's favorite all-time singers, and Tina was always blasting her music while in the car. He loved how well this suited Santana's voice, in a way that he hadn't thought it would. He bobbed his head along to the imaginary beat, tapping his toes all the while. He couldn't help but to think that Santana had dedicated this song to him! It felt good to have a good song dedicated to him, instead of a sad song that just reminded him of another bad memory.  
><em><br>Mistreated, misplaced, misunderstood  
>Miss 'No way, it's all good'<br>It didn't slow me down  
>Mistaken, always second guessing<br>Underestimated, look, I'm still around_

I'm still around, Kurt thought. Look at me, bitches, I'm still here. Kurt Hummel is still on this earth, living and breathing. I've been mistreated, misplaced, and misunderstood. And did that ever slow me down? Well, yes, it did. It did slow me down quite a bit. But then again, I'm mistaken. I'm always second-guessing not only myself, but my friends. Everyone always underestimated me. Everyone but Santana, that is. And look at where we are now. I'd never in a million years thought I'd be friends with Santana Lopez. And now she's the closest person to me. How did that happen?  
><em><br>Pretty, pretty please, don't you ever, ever feel  
>Like you're less than fucking perfect<br>Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel  
>Like you're nothing, you're fucking perfect to me<em>

Kurt blushed a little. He knew Santana was being honest with this song. She wanted to ensure that he never felt less than perfect. Kurt felt less than perfect on a daily basis. He couldn't remember there ever being a time when he felt perfect. But now he knew he'd always be perfect in Santana's eyes. Even if that was just one person, it was still one person to whom he was perfect. And you couldn't buy friendship like that just anywhere, Kurt decided. A friendship like this? It only came around once in a thousand years.  
><em><br>You're so mean when you talk  
>About yourself; you were wrong<br>Change the voices in your head  
>Make them like you instead<em>

Santana looked straight at Kurt, hoping he would take this to heart. Kurt was always so down on himself. He always said the cruelest things about himself, like that he was fat (which he wasn't) or that he was ugly (which he most definitely wasn't). She wished, more than anything, that he'd change that little voice in the back of his head. You know, that voice that everyone has that says "you're not good enough". She wished that she could make those voices tell Kurt good things about himself, that his self-esteem would just shoot through the roof and he'd be a happy, confident person.  
><em><br>So complicated  
>Look happy, you'll make it<br>Filled with so much hatred  
>Such a tired game<em>

Santana looked at Kurt. He was actually smiling, much to her surprise. She'd half-expected him to be angry and scowling, or to have a flashback panic attack, like he had when the other members in Glee had dedicated a song to him. But here he was, tapping his feet and dancing a little in his seat and actually _smiling_! She hoped that this was the start of something new, that this was the beginning of a newer, happier Kurt. She hoped that the hatred that was rooted deeply in his soul would go away, never to return.  
><em><br>It's enough, I've done all I could think of  
>Chased down all my demons<br>I've seen you do the same  
>Ohh, ohhhhhhh<em>

She hated having seen Kurt self-destruct. She hated seeing him chase down his demons, like she had. She hated seeing him come out of the school that day, blood dripping down his leg, with that terrified, broken look on his face. She wanted more than anything in that moment to help him, to hold him and tell him it would be okay. But she couldn't. If she couldn't fix herself, how could she fix someone else who was even more broken than she was? She decided that upon their return to McKinley, she'd hunt down Karofsky and make him pay for what he'd done to her baby.  
><em><br>Pretty, pretty please, don't you ever, ever feel  
>Like you're less than fucking perfect<br>Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel  
>Like you're nothing, you're fucking perfect to me<em>

Santana so very longed to feel perfect. Sure, she used to be a cheerleader. She'd given up cheerleading, and, ultimately, her popularity and status within the school, for Glee club. She'd given up everything she'd spent years building up just to be able to sing. She was knocked to the bottom of the social ladder. She felt way less than perfect. She never really did feel perfect, even though she acted like she did. Did anyone really feel perfect? She asked herself.  
><em><br>The whole world's scared, so I swallow the fear  
>The only thing I should be drinking is an ice cold beer<br>So cool in line and we try try try but we try too hard  
>And it's a waste of my time<em>

Kurt tried to swallow all of his fear. It was hard to, as he had so much of it. It felt like those giant pills he was forced to swallow for depression every morning while he was here. But he knew he had to do it. If there was one less scared person in this world, imagine what this world could be, he thought. It only really takes one person to change the world, even if they only change it a little. Maybe when I get out of here, I could do something cool, like teach little kids how to sing. Or how to find a good bargain at the mall. Either one would do.  
><em><br>Done looking for the critics, cause they're everywhere  
>They don't like my jeans, they don't get my hair<br>Exchange ourselves and we do it all the time  
>Why do we do that, why do I do that<br>Pretty, pretty, pretty_

Kurt was so thrilled that Santana had dedicated this awesome song to him. He was done looking for critics, like Karofsky. He was done looking for the haters. They were everywhere, and Kurt couldn't help that. But what he could help was to turn the other way and to ignore them. So what if they made fun of his clothes? They were his clothes, and he liked them. It was his style, and no one could ever change that. Kurt didn't want to change who he was on the outside. He only wanted to change who he was on the inside.

_Pretty, pretty please, don't you ever, ever feel  
>Like you're less than fucking perfect<br>Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel  
>Like you're nothing than you're fucking perfect to me<em>

Kurt was actually glad that he was considered perfect to someone. And he was doubly glad that that person was Santana. Of course, he'd want to be considered perfect to Puck. But he'd never be perfect in Puck's eyes. Never would be, never could be. As much as Kurt wanted to get over Puck, he was beginning to fear that he never would. He'd snuck back to that trash can later yesterday and gotten the letter back. He couldn't let it sit there and get thrown away. Even if he wasn't sure that he believed what Puck was saying, he still enjoyed seeing his name written in Puck's handwriting.  
><em><br>You're perfect, you're perfect  
>Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel<br>Like you're nothing, you're fucking perfect to me_

Kurt ran up to Santana and wrapped her in a big hug. "Thanks," he whispered to her, kissing her on the cheek.

"You're welcome," she murmured back.

"I'm glad I'm perfect in the eyes of one," he said. "And that that one is you."

"Aww," she cooed. "You're so sweet, Kurt."

"Santy?"

"Yes, Kurtie?"

"Do you think…do you…do you think I'll be perfect to anyone else?"

"Of course," she said. "I think you already are."

_He was perfect to Puck. He just didn't know it yet. _


	9. Beautiful Disaster

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or "Beautiful Disaster". **

**Note: I'm sure most of you know by now that "Somewhere Only We Know" was leaked on Perez Hilton today. The scene, that is, from the Born This Way episode next week. I sobbed my eyes out for a good ten minutes. Also leaked is the AMAZING new Kurt solo, "As If We Never Said Goodbye". I didn't think he could top "Blackbird". Well, he did. Best I've heard Chris Colfer sound TO DATE. Anyway, on with the show! Review; your reviews for the last chapter were SO nice.**

Santana sat in her room, humming to herself softly. She looked over at Tallulah, who was sitting on her bed, curled up and staring off into space.

"You okay?" Santana tried. She hadn't heard Tallulah speak to this date.

Tallulah shrugged.

"Do you want me to help you with your song?"

Tallulah shook her head, and then paused, as if reconsidering it. She again looked like she was going to say something, but Kurt appeared in the doorway.

"Santa Anna, do you have any lotion? My hands are so dry," he complained.

Tallulah shrank back and threw herself under the bed covers.

"What did I-?"

Santana shushed him. She pushed herself over to the bed. "Tallulah," she said softly. "It's just Kurt. Kurt won't hurt you. Kurt is gay. He doesn't touch women in any way, other then hugs and the occasional kiss on the cheek. He won't hurt you, I promise. He's really, really nice.

Tallulah stuck her head out. She looked into Santana's eyes imploringly. "It's okay," Santana told her. "Kurt's harmless. Sure, he might try to give you a makeover, but otherwise, he's completely harmless. This is the kid who cries when the dust bunnies under the couch get sucked up by the vacuum."

Kurt glared at her. Santana rolled her eyes. "Just…give him a chance."

Tallulah turned her head to look at Kurt. He smiled. "Hi," he waved. She surveyed him. He seemed safe. And he wasn't into women. And he did have that beautiful voice. She had to get to know him. She pushed herself out of bed. "That's it," Santana smiled. Tallulah walked over to Kurt.

This time, when he stuck out his hand, she looked at it tentatively.

And then she shook it.

_**The next day**_

"Who would like to be the first to sing something?" the nurse asked.

Kurt was suddenly reminded of Mr. Schuester, and he had to shake his head to make sure that he was still at Lima Mercy, and not at McKinley High.

"I will," Samantha said. Kurt looked at her curiously. He did not know much about the petite girl other than that she was addicted to sex. He wondered what kind of song she could want to sing.

She strutted to the front of the room. "This one's for…well, he'll know who he is."

_He drowns in his dreams  
><em>_An exquisite extreme, I know  
><em>_He's as damned as he seems  
><em>_And more heaven than a heart could hold_

Kurt stiffened a bit. Oh, please, don't be about me, he thought. Please, please don't be singing to me, girl. I don't need this, I don't need this shit all over again. Santana's song made me feel so, so good yesterday. I don't need to feel worse again. He drew his knees to his chest. I don't drown in my dreams, he thought sulkily. Okay, so maybe I do. But I'm not more heaven than a heart could hold. More like hell.

_And if I try to save him  
><em>_My whole world would cave in  
><em>_It just ain't right  
><em>_Lord, it just ain't right_

Puck was at McKinley, sitting around the auditorium. "What's up, man?" Finn asked.

"Thinking about Kurt," Puck admitted.

"Thinking about my little brother? Why?"

Puck rolled his eyes. "Finn, you know as well as I do that Kurt's older than you."

Finn sulked. "But he's smaller than me. So he's my 'little' brother."

"Whatever," Puck muttered.

"So why are you thinking about him, anyway?" Finn questioned.

_Oh, and I don't know  
><em>_Don't know what he's after  
><em>_But he's so beautiful  
><em>_He's such a beautiful disaster_

Santana stole a look at Kurt. She saw him shrinking into himself and sighed. It was McKinley all over again, she thought. She didn't know what he was looking for. She didn't know if he was looking for a boyfriend, or a life partner, or even what career he wanted once they graduated. All Santana knew was that he was a disaster waiting to happen. He was a disaster, yes, but he was a beautiful disaster. And for that, Santana loved him more than ever and found him to be the most interesting person she'd ever met.

_And if I could hold on  
><em>_Through the tears and the laugher  
><em>_Lord, would it be beautiful?  
>Or just a beautiful disaster?<em>

Kurt just wanted to hold on. That's all he wanted to do was hold on for one more day, for one more night. There were tears, yes. There were many tears, Kurt thought. But for every tear, there was a moment of laughter. He really did have the best friends in the world, even if Mercedes was gone. He had Artie, who he'd known since they were babies. He had Tina, who helped him after so many Slushiee attacks. He had Finn, who, at times, could be a great stepbrother. And most of all, he had Santana, the most beautiful and broken person that Kurt had ever seen.

_He's magic and myth  
><em>_As strong as what I believe  
><em>_A tragedy with  
><em>_More damage than a soul should see_

"Dude, what's up?" Finn badgered Puck.

"Nothing. Jeez, Hudson, leave me alone, would you?"

"This isn't nothing, Puck. You were thinking about Kurt again. You saved his life, man. What was that all about?"

"I told you, just leave me alone!" Puck yelled. "I was just thinking about him because I was wondering if he ever got the letters we sent to him, okay? Now get out of here."

_But do I try to change him?  
>So hard not to blame him<br>__Hold me tight  
><em>_Baby, hold me tight_

Santana reached over and touched Kurt's shoulder. She gestured for him to come and sit on her lap. Kurt had sat on Artie's lap dozens of times, but that was different. Artie couldn't feel his legs, so Kurt knew he was never hurting him. But Santana's leg was broken, and he didn't want to hurt her even further. "Don't worry," she mouthed to him. He sighed and climbed into her lap, feeling like he was four again, climbing into his mother's lap. She adjusted him so that he wasn't hurting her, and wrapped her good arm around his waist, holding him tightly.

_Oh, and I don't know  
><em>_Don't know what he's after  
><em>_But he's so beautiful  
><em>_He's such a beautiful disaster_

Kurt hummed softly as Santana held him close. She tickled his tummy from time to time, making him giggle a little. He felt secure and safe for the first time in weeks. He hadn't felt this secure and safe since Puck had saved him. This felt nothing like what the thing with Puck had felt. With Puck, Kurt got shivers and tingles all over at the very feeling of Puck's strong arms around him, keeping him safe. But with Santana, he felt warm and safe in a different manner. He felt protected and out of harm's way in the figurative sense, not the literal sense. He felt comforted and warm and slightly childlike as he leaned into her.

_And if I could hold on  
><em>_Through the tears and the laugher  
><em>_Would it be beautiful?  
><em>_Or just a beautiful disaster?  
><em>_  
><em>Santana breathed in the sweet smell of the shampoo that Kurt had been using. It wasn't his usual scent, but it was still nice. She almost felt like he was her brother, and she was keeping him safe from the nightmares. What she really wished was that this was Brittany sitting on her lap. Oh, god, Brittany. Brittany had, too, sent Santana a letter.

"Dear Santana,

I'm so sorry. I'm just so sorry. I love you, I do, but…I just can't leave Artie! Maybe…maybe someday you can I can be together. But not now. I hope you get better, because I miss my best friend.

Love,

Brittany"

_I'm longing for love and the logical  
><em>_But he's only happy hysterical  
><em>_I'm searching for some kind of miracle  
><em>_Waited so long, waited so long_

Kurt looked down at the floor. He was searching for some kind of miracle—years ago. He gave up on miracles after his mother died. He especially gave up on them after Mercedes died. Kurt didn't believe in miracles anymore. It was a long time waiting, and he had yet to see one. He longed for love and the logical, but that would be a miracle. How could Kurt believe he could find them if he didn't believe in miracles?

_He's soft to the touch  
><em>_But frayed at the ends, he breaks  
><em>_He's never enough  
><em>_And still, he's more than I can take_

"Come on, man, just talk to me. I thought after the Quinn pregnancy scandal, we weren't gonna hide things from each other anymore."

"I can't tell you, Finn. I know what's gonna happen. You're gonna tell Quinn, who's gonna tell Brittany, who's gonna tell Artie, who's gonna tell Tina, and so on. Or you'll tell Rachel and then the whole goddamn school will know."

"I swear, man, just between the two of us."

Puck stared him deep in the eye. "Fine." He sighed. "I'm in love with your brother."

_Oh, and I don't know  
><em>_Don't know what he's after  
><em>_But he's so beautiful  
><em>_He's such a beautiful disaster_

Finn gasped. "What?" Surely he couldn't have just heard that…

"I'm in love with your fucking stepbrother, Hudson." Puck held his head in his hands. "Goddamnit, I can't believe I just told you that."

"You're in love with Kurt?" Finn asked incredulously.

"Yes, Hudson, in case you didn't hear the first two times, yes, I am in love with Kurt. That's why I keep thinking about him. That's why I saved his life."

Finn blinked. "So you're gay?"

"I don't know," Puck said honestly. "Gay, bisexual, I have no idea. But I love him."

_And if I could hold on  
><em>_Through the tears and the laugher  
><em>_Would it be beautiful?  
>Or just a beautiful disaster?<em>

"Are you going to tell him?"

"Yes. No. I don't know, okay, man? It was bad enough telling you."

"I think you'd make a cute couple," Finn said thoughtfully.

Puck softened. "You think?"

"Yeah," Finn said. "He's so tiny and you're so big. You could like, protect him."

"I could," Puck said softly. "I will. Thanks, man."

"Anytime."

"But if you tell anyone, I'll bash your face in."

"My lips are sealed," Finn promised him. "Bros before hoes."

_He's beautiful  
><em>_Lord, he's so beautiful  
><em>_He's beautiful_

"He's beautiful," Kurt whispered.

"What was that?" Santana asked vaguely.

"Nothing," Kurt blushed and looked away quickly.

"Whatever you say, babe," Santana ruffled Kurt's hair. "Whatever you say."

Kurt scowled. "Don't. Touch. The hair."

Santana grinned wickedly and messed up his hair even more. Kurt leapt off her lap and laughed. "I'll get you back!"

"Not if I get you first," she teased, chasing him across the room, laughing all the way.

_Puck couldn't tell him; at least, not yet. _


	10. Cold As You

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or "Cold as You".**

**Note: Putting a twist on this chapter. Well, the song, anyway. You'll see what it is. And don't worry, our first big Puck/Kurt scene is most likely in the next chapter. Beyond excited to write that one, believe me. Oh, and, ahem, where are my reviews? Ha, ha. Please do review, it means so much to me.**

"So, who has a song for us today?"

A tall boy stood up. Santana recognized him as the one who had been muttering to himself and punching the wall in the waiting room. What was his name? She couldn't seem to remember.

"Jonathan? You'd like to sing something?"

He nodded. "Yeah," he said quietly. Jonathan was tall, with spiky black hair. He was a bit too punk-rock for Santana's taste (and for Kurt's taste, for that matter), but he was still a fairly handsome boy. He had been on the quiet side since arrival, so the fact that he was willing to sing a song so early on was impressive to Santana. She didn't know much about his situation other than that his girlfriend—or rather, ex-girlfriend—had gotten him addicted to drugs, used him, cheated on him, and left him heartbroken and wanting to die. She didn't even know the ex-girlfriend's name, as he wouldn't ever say it aloud. But Santana didn't doubt that this song was going to be about her.

Jonathan cleared his throat. "This song is dedicated to my ex-girlfriend, who got me here in the first place. Her name," he cleared his throat again. "Her name was April."

_You have a way of coming easily to me  
><em>_And when you take, you take the very best of me  
><em>_So I start a fight 'cause I need to feel something  
><em>_And you do what you want 'cause I'm not what you wanted_

Santana's eyes widened. The last thing she'd expected to come out of the punk rocker's mouth was a freakin' Taylor Swift song. She squinted her eyes, trying to see what was going through his mind. She supposed the lyrics did fit him rather well. They also fit her, she thought. Brittany had a way of coming very, very easily to her. Santana started a fight with her just to feel something, anything at all. But Santana was not what Brittany wanted. She was never what she wanted. Maybe once upon a time, but not now.

_Oh, what a shame, what a rainy ending given to a perfect day  
><em>_Just walk away, no use defending words that you will never say  
><em>_And now that I'm sitting here thinking it through  
><em>_I've never been anywhere cold as you_

Kurt shivered. He'd never been anywhere as cold as Karofsky. That boy had ice in every vein, ice in every corner of his body. He knew how to make the seemingly perfect day the worst day ever. He knew how to make Kurt shake in terror at the mere thought of him. He knew how to write a book on how to ruin someone's perfect day. Karofsky thought he was in love with Kurt, but he wasn't. He could never be in love with Kurt, because it just wasn't right. Kurt didn't deny that Karofsky was way in the closet. But he could deny that Karofsky was in love with him. He—Karofsky—didn't know what love really was. You didn't hurt the people you loved. You didn't beat them up in the bathroom. You didn't rape them.

_You put up walls and paint them all a shade of grey\  
><em>_And I stood there loving you and wished them all away  
><em>_And you come away with a great little story  
><em>_Of a mess of a dreamer with the nerve to adore you_

This reminded Kurt of Puck now. Ever since Quinn had given their baby up for adoption, Puck had put these walls up around him. He painted them all grey, dark grey, and wouldn't let anybody in. Kurt stood there, rain or shine, whishing that he could break those walls down. But he couldn't, he never could. Those walls would always stay up. He knew that Puck would just come away with a story. And that story would be about Kurt, who had the nerve to love and adore Noah Puckerman. Kurt began to cry softly. He wanted Puck to love him so much, but he knew that Puck was just leading him on, was just lying and pretending to love him. Kurt almost couldn't take the thought of all this anymore. He wanted so desperately to burn himself right then and there.

_Oh, what a shame, what a rainy ending given to a perfect day  
><em>_Just walk away, no use defending words that you will never say  
><em>_And now that I'm sitting here thinking it through  
><em>_I've never been anywhere cold as you_

Santana looked over to see Kurt crying. His face was sweaty, and his stare was glassy, almost feverish. She recognized that expression, as she'd seen it around there so many times. She knew he was craving the flames. She knew that he wanted to burn himself so badly, but couldn't. She knew that this was an addiction that he just couldn't keep down anymore, that Kurt was slowly relapsing. She looked at him in concern, wishing there was something she could do, and also wondering just what was making him cry.

_You never did a damn thing, honey  
><em>_But I cried, cried for you  
><em>_And I know you wouldn't have told nobody  
><em>_If I died, died for you  
><em>_Died for you…_

Kurt began to cry harder now. It was true, it was all true. He'd cried for Puck. He'd cried for him, and Quinn, and baby Beth. He'd cried for Puck's past and he'd cried when Puck was sent to juvie. Puck hadn't cried for Kurt (as far as Kurt knew). And it was true. If Kurt had died for Puck, thrown himself in front of a bus for Puck, Puck wouldn't tell anybody. That was just how Puck operated. Kurt didn't think he'd tell anyone if someone died for him. And Puck wouldn't die for anyone. Kurt knew that much about him. He began to sweat even harder, the need to burn coming even stronger.

_Oh, what a shame, what a rainy ending given to a perfect day  
><em>_Every smile you fake is so condescending  
><em>_Counting all the scars you made  
><em>_And now that I'm sitting here thinking it through  
><em>_I've never been anywhere cold as you_

Kurt cried out and ran into his room, searching desperately and feverishly for something, anything he could use to start a fire. Santana scurried after him. "Kurt, please don't do this," she begged. "You don't need the flames to feel better!"

"Yes, I do," he cried, hysterical. "I need them, Santana!"

Santana called for one of the nurses. "He's having a relapse…oh God, I haven't seen him this bad since…"

Kurt collapsed to the floor, sobbing. "He wouldn't care if I died for him. He won't die for me, won't die for me," he sobbed incomprehensively. "He won't die for me."

The nurse rushed over. "Kurt, tell me, who won't die for you?"

Santana motioned to her. "Let me." The nurse pushed her closer to Kurt. "Honey, I know you're talking about Puck." Kurt sobbed harder at the mention of his name. "And you don't need the flames to get rid of him. It's okay, Kurt. Puck cares about you. He really does."

"How do you know?" Kurt muttered darkly through his tears.

"I just do. Call it ESP or whatever."

"I don't believe you," Kurt wiped the tears off his cheeks. "I don't believe a single word."

Santana threw her hands up. "Whatever, Kurt. But Puck does care about you, whether you want to believe it or not." She left Kurt alone to drown in his pity tears.

"He doesn't care," Kurt muttered again. "He doesn't."

_Puck would die, die for Kurt. _


	11. Need You Now

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or "Need You Now".**

**Note: I won't lie. This is my favorite chapter to date. "Finally," you'll say by the end of this chapter. I really hope you like it. As always, please review!**

**Note 2: Imagine the song as Rachel and Puck sang it in "Super Bowl Shuffle", okay? But with Kurt as Rachel.**

It had been one month since Kurt and Santana had arrived on the ward.

"Kurt, Santana, you're allowed to have visitors now. You may write to your family and friends and let them know. Visiting hours are…"

Kurt didn't hear anything after "you're allowed to have visitors". He didn't really want to see anyone, except maybe Carole. He didn't want to see Finn, he didn't want to see his dad, and he really didn't want to see Puck.

Santana had a few tricks up her sleeve. She quickly drafted a letter to Brittany and asked her to bring a certain glee clubber along with her. Santana knew that she wanted to see Brittany again to get closure on their relationship, but she also had another plan in mind. She knew, just knew, that Puck was harboring some secret romantic feelings for Kurt. And she just had to get them together.

Because they were just so fucking cute together.

Visiting day came before they knew it, and Kurt was 98% sure that nobody was coming to see him. That was the way he liked it. He lounged around in his designer sweats, feeling quite lazy for once. Perhaps he'd take a nap, or chat with Brittany, whom he knew was going to visit Santana today. Needless to say, his jaw dropped when Puck strode into the room, closely followed by Brittany, who looked both confused and terrified to be there.

"Oh, _hell_ no," Kurt muttered under his breath. He couldn't believe that Santana would go behind his back and do something like this. She knew that Kurt didn't want to see Puck right now! She knew, and she still did this to him! He swooped down upon her.

"You invited Puck?"

She rolled her eyes. "Please, babe, it's not like you didn't want to see him."

"I don't want to see him!" Kurt said angrily. "I don't want anything to do with him!"

"Too bad," she shrugged. "Because he's here. What are you going to do, tell him to go away?"

"Precisely," Kurt said with a huff, turning on his heel dramatically.

"Hey, Kurt," Puck said nervously, approaching him. "How are you?"

"I don't want to see you right now, Puckerman," Kurt said icily.

"Just give me five minutes, Kurt," Puck pleaded. "Just five. You owe me that much."

Kurt sighed heavily. "Fine."

"Can we like, go somewhere…private?"

Kurt raised his eyebrows. "Oh, okay, sure." He led Puck to his room, making sure the door was wide open. He sat down on the bed, cross-legged, and folded his arms across his chest. "What do you want?"

Puck took a deep breath and sat down next to Kurt. "I have to tell you the reason I saved your life." Kurt opened his mouth to protest. "Don't even. You know you want to know. It's just killing you inside. You want to know why I saved you so badly that you'd do anything to find out. Don't lie to me, Kurt, because I know you want to know."

Kurt sighed. He had to admit defeat. "Okay. Why did you save me, Puck?"

Puck looked around to make sure that they were alone. "Kurt, you have to believe me when I say what I'm about to say. I'm like, dead serious, man. You have to believe every word I say, because if you don't, I'll be real hurt."

Kurt blinked slowly. "I can't promise I'll believe it, but I'll listen."

Puck shuddered. "Kurt, I'm serious. You have to believe me."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine, I'll believe you."

Puck closed his eyes. "I saved you because…because I love you, Kurt."

Kurt shook his head. "No you don't."

"God, I knew you wouldn't believe me!"

"You don't love me," Kurt uncrossed his legs so that they were dangling over the side of the bed. "You're just playing with me. You're just messing with my mind and heart, Puck. I know your tricks! I know this is just one of your stupid little games, and let me tell you something, I-"

He was cut off by Puck's lips upon his. Kurt gasped, his eyes wide open. Then he closed them slowly, leaning into the kiss. Behind his eyelids, he saw fireworks. It was so amazing, so pure, and Kurt had never felt anything like it before. He knew, in that moment, that this was not a play. This felt too real to be fake, too true to be just a game. Kurt felt this in his toes, and he wanted the rest of the Earth to just melt away and leave the two of them standing. When Puck finally broke away, Kurt dared to open his eyes. "Do you believe me now?" Puck asked him quietly.

"Hell yes," Kurt breathed. He dove in for another kiss, this one better than the first. Puck was taken aback a little. He hadn't expected Kurt to be quite so aggressive so soon. He'd actually expected Kurt to freak out and run, considering what had happened with Karofsky. But hey, who was Puck to complain? He was kissing the hottest guy at McKinley (besides himself, of course). He broke this one off a little sooner than the first one. "How was that?" He asked carefully.

"So good," Kurt licked his lips. "Puck, I…I'm so sorry, I was so rude to you."

"Forgiven," Puck softly said. "I really do love you, Kurt."

"I love you, too," Kurt whispered. Puck reached for his hand, and Kurt held it tightly. He never wanted to let go.

"Santana, I'm sorry…I just can't…I love Artie," Brittany tried to explain.

"I know," Santana whispered. "And I wanted to tell you something."

Brittany's lip quivered. "You hate me, don't you?"

"Oh, no, honey. I just wanted to say that…I'm getting over you."

Brittany frowned. "Over me? Why?"

"Because I have to. I know we can't be together, and I have to accept that. You belong with Artie, anyway."

Brittany smiled. "Thanks. I hope you find someone to share sweet lady kisses with soon."

Santana laughed. "So we're still best friends?"

Brittany nodded. "Yes." She leaned over and hugged Santana happily.

"Wanna go spy on Puck and Kurt?"

"Duh."

They went off giggling towards Kurt's room, just in time to see Kurt lean in towards Puck to give him a deep kiss. "Eeee," they squealed, hooking pinkies, just like old times. "Damn, Kurt, get it," Santana muttered.

"Get what?" Brittany asked sweetly.

"Never mind," Santana rolled her eyes, focusing back on the kissing. "Finally," she whispered when Kurt confessed that he loved Puck. Kurt and Puck looked up to see the girls peering in on them.

"Santana! Brittany!"

"Oops," Santana giggled. "Quick, Britt, to the safe house!"

"Where's that?"

"Just go, Britt." Brittany wheeled her away quickly. Kurt shook his head.

"I'll kill Santana later," he muttered.

"Ah, don't worry about them. Kurt?"

"Yes?"

"I, um, I'm not exactly sure what my sexuality is."

Kurt's heart thudded. "What do you mean?"

"Like, I like girls. But I also like you."

"Do you ever have sex dreams about boys?"

Puck nodded. "Yeah." _About you,_ he added in his mind.

"What about girls?"

Puck thought hard. "Not that I can remember. I've obviously had sex with them, though."

"But do you like having sex with girls?"

Puck contemplated this. "It's complicated. Too many risks. Like pregnancy."

"Well, I'm not an expert on this." Puck looked at him. "Okay, so maybe I am. But it sounds like you just might be gay. Bisexual at the least."

Puck nodded. "Okay. I can deal with that."

"Can you really? It's a hard revelation, Noah."

Puck loved when Kurt spoke his real name. It was like a whisper, like a sigh. Noah, Noah. "Yeah. I'm tough, Kurt. If I can deal with having a baby and having to give her away, I can deal with being gay or whatever."

"Okay," Kurt sighed. "But if you need anything…"

Puck nodded. "I have something else to ask of you."

Kurt looked at him wearily. "What is it?"

"Will you sing a duet with me? I've always wanted to sing with you, but Schue would never let us."

Kurt's eyes widened. "I'd love to," he whispered.

_Picture perfect memories scattered all around the floor  
>Reaching for the phone 'cause I can't fight it anymore<br>And I wonder if I ever cross your mind  
>For me, it happens all the time<em>

Puck smiled at him. He did enjoy this song, although he'd never let anyone know it. And Kurt just looked so pure and lovely while singing it, like Kurt always did. Puck stood up and offered his hand to Kurt, leading him off the bed and back into the main room. Yes, baby, he thought. You do cross my mind. All the time. And I'm so glad that you love me, and that you believe me when I say that I love you. God, you're wonderful.  
><em><br>It's a quarter after one, I'm all alone, and I need you now  
>Said I wouldn't call, but I've lost all control, and I need you now<br>And I don't know how I can do without  
>I just need you now<em>

Kurt looked down at his hand in Puck's. He blushed, loving the feeling. He felt so warm and happy inside, indescribably warm and happy. He couldn't believe that all of this was happening. He couldn't believe that Puck—Puck!—was in love with him. This kind of thing only happened in your best dreams and in fairy tales, Kurt had always thought. But now he knew that fairy tales could happen in real life. He hadn't felt this light in so long, and he couldn't believe that Puck was his.  
><em><br>Another shot of whiskey, can't stop looking at the door  
>Wishing you'd come sweeping in the way you did before<br>And I wonder if I ever cross your mind  
>For me, it happens all the time<em>

Puck couldn't help but to stare at Kurt. Kurt was glowing, simply _glowing_. He had never seen Kurt this happy as long as he'd known him. Puck almost found it hard to believe, but it was true. Kurt was truly happy for the first time in years, and it was all due to him. Puck was filled with a sense of pride that he was helping to fix this beautiful creature that had captured his heart. Puck didn't know exactly how Kurt had did it, but Kurt had stolen his heart and was refusing to give it back. And Puck, for once, didn't mind.  
><em><br>It's a quarter after one, I'm a little drunk, and I need you now  
>Said I wouldn't call, but I've lost all control, and I need you now<br>And I don't know how I can do without  
>I just need you now<em>

Puck swung Kurt around so that they were facing each other. Kurt wrapped his arms around Puck's neck carefully, shaking a little. He looked into Puck's eyes, which were warm and full of light. Kurt could tell that Puck wasn't lying about any of this, that he really did love him. These weren't Puck's joking eyes, they were his truthful, caring eyes. It was enough to make Kurt want to cry and laugh joyfully and scream and dance all at the same time.

_Yes, I'd rather hurt than feel nothing at all_

Puck gently caressed Kurt's cheek with his hand. It felt so soft, so smooth. He could also see that Brittany had been right about Kurt's "soft baby hands". Everything about Kurt was so soft and light and beautiful. Puck especially loved Kurt's eyes, how they were such a haunting blue-grey color, and how they, right now, were full of love and pure joy.  
><em><br>It's a quarter after one, I'm all alone, and I need you now  
>And I said I wouldn't call, but I'm a little drunk, and I need you now<br>Well, I don't know how I can do without  
>I just need you now<br>I just need you now  
>Oh baby, I need you now<em>

Puck leaned in and gave Kurt a slow, soft kiss. "God, I love you," he mumbled.

"Love you, too," Kurt moaned against Puck's lips. With Puck, he felt so safe, so warm, so…happy. Kurt had forgotten what 'happy' really felt like. And now that he knew again, he didn't want to ever go back to the depression. He never wanted to feel that way. He only wanted this, only wanted now, and only wanted Puck.

"Finally," Santana and Brittany sighed, hooking pinkies and enjoying the cuteness that lay before them.

_Finally, indeed_.


	12. Brave

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or "Brave". **

**Note: This is one of my favorite all-time non-Glee, non-Broadway songs (although sung by a Glee guest star and Broadway star). I hope you like it. Now that Puck and Kurt are together, I think it's high time that Santana get a love interest. You responded so well to the last chapter (thank you!), so please respond to this one!**

**Note 2: Since the last chapter was so Kurt-centric, I hope you don't mind me doing one that's more Santana-centric. She's such a rewarding character to write, and I'd hate to shove her off to the sidelines for the sake of Puck/Kurt. **

Santana sighed as she brushed her long black hair one-handedly. Why me? She was happy—ecstatic, really—that Kurt finally had a boyfriend, and that it was Puck, but Santana couldn't help but to feel left out. When they got out of there, it would now be Artie-and-Brittany, Kurt-and-Puck, and Tina-and-Mike. Santana would just be left out like a seventh wheel. She was trying to get over Brittany, really, she was. And she practically was over her. But she couldn't help but to think that it was going to be hard to find a lady love. She looked wistfully at Kurt. She knew that it couldn't have been easy to find a boyfriend when you're gay. She imagined that it would be just as hard to find a girlfriend when you're a lesbian. She knew there weren't any out girls at school—in fact, she was probably the only lesbian even at McKinley—but there had to be someone out there for her. Seeing her friends happy like this was nice and all, but something was still missing in the Latina girl's life. Maybe I should just sing about this, she thought. There was a song that she thought would fit her situation perfectly. Still brushing her hair, she began to sing softly to herself.

_I don't know just where I'm going  
><em>_And tomorrow's a little overwhelming  
><em>_And the air is cold  
><em>_And I'm not the same anymore_

Santana really wasn't the same anymore. She was a changed woman. Gone was the über-bitch who enjoyed putting people down and laughing in their faces. Gone was the girl who slit open her skin when she was upset. In her place was a woman who didn't know what to do. It was a woman who actually wasn't afraid to cry in public, and who regretted ever putting people down (well, except Rachel. Because everyone did it to Rachel. Even Mr. Schuester). Santana didn't know where exactly where she was going, but she sure as hell was enjoying the journey to get there.

_I've been running in your direction  
><em>_For too long now  
><em>_Lost my own reflection  
><em>_And I can't look down if you're not there to catch me when I fall_

Santana had been running in Brittany's direction for far too long. She couldn't keep doing it anymore. She knew she had to stop, because Brittany had found someone that she really cared about. Brittany had found someone that she loved in a different way than she had ever loved Santana. Santana didn't know who was staring back at her in the mirror half the time. She couldn't keep looking over the face of the cliff when she knew that Brittany wouldn't be there to catch her when she fell.

_If this is the moment I stand here on my own  
><em>_If this is my rite of passage that somehow leads me home  
><em>_I might be afraid  
><em>_But it's my turn to be brave_

Kurt looked in on Santana. He smiled sadly, knowing that getting over Brittany was hurting her. He knew that it killed her inside to state their friendship so firmly, even if she didn't act it around Brittany. He could see that Santana was standing on her own more now than ever, and he felt bad. Kurt didn't want to abandon Santana in favor of his new boyfriend, but he also didn't want to get in the way of her recovery process. He hoped she would find her way home soon.

_If this is the last chance before we say goodbye  
><em>_At least it's the first day of the rest of my life  
><em>_I can't be afraid  
><em>'_Cause it's my turn to be brave_

This is the first day of the rest of my life, Santana determined. This, right here, is the first day. I am over her. I have to be. We said goodbye to whatever we used to have, and we're just friends now. This is the first day of the brand-new Santana Maria Lopez. This is the new me, and if people don't like it, then they can kiss my ass. I hope it's not too late to apologize to all of the people I've hurt over the years. I hope they'll forgive me. I hope they'll see the new me, the real me.

_All along, all I ever wanted, was to be the light  
><em>_When your life was daunting  
><em>_But I can't see mine  
><em>_When I feel as though you're pushing me away_

Tallulah walked slowly back from the bathroom towards her room. She really wasn't feeling good today. She wanted desperately to cut herself, but knew that she couldn't get away with it. There were security cameras even in the bathrooms, so she didn't dare to try it. God, what was up with this place? Why did they keep trying to make her talk? Tallulah didn't want to talk. She really didn't want to talk. She hadn't spoken a word in over a month. The only sounds that had emitted from her throat were screams. She wanted so much just to die, or, at the very least, leave this horrid place. Even Kurt's beautiful voice couldn't make her happy anymore.

_Well, who's to blame?  
><em>_Are we making the right choices?  
><em>'_Cause we can't be sure if we're hearing our own voices as we close the door  
><em>_Even though we are so desperate to stay_

Tallulah stopped outside of her door, not wanting to look in. She heard a voice softly singing, and her curiosity got the best of her. She peered in cautiously to see her roommate brushing her hair slowly and singing a beautiful, haunting song. Tallulah couldn't help but to stare at Santana. Santana was really, really pretty, Tallulah noticed. She wouldn't tell anybody, but she was into girls. She had been for years. There was something about Santana that put her at ease, but Tallulah could not speak to her. She almost had, a few times, but Kurt had always frightened her away. Maybe, just maybe…

_If this is the moment I stand here on my own  
><em>_If this is my rite of passage that somehow leads me home  
><em>_I might be afraid  
><em>_But it's my turn to be brave_

Kurt noticed Tallulah staring at Santana, and it was then that he knew. Call it gaydar, he thought, but I know when one lady has feelings for another lady. And you, my dear silent one, definitely have feelings for my Latina bitch. He smiled to himself. They'd make an interesting couple, he thought fondly. She noticed him looking at her, and met his eyes with all the strength she had left in her. He nodded in encouragement. "Go on," he mouthed to her. "You can do it." She shook her head. "I believe in you," he whispered.

_If this is the last chance before we say goodbye  
><em>_At least it's the first day of the rest of my life  
><em>_I can't be afraid  
><em>'_Cause it's my turn to be brave_

Kurt saw Tallulah freeze, and he knew that she was having second thoughts about this. He sighed and walked over to her slowly, as so not to startle her. She looked at him, her eyes haunted and dark. "Tally," he whispered softly. "It's your turn to be brave." She blinked at him, and turned her attention back to Santana. "It's your turn," Kurt whispered again. "You can't be afraid now. It's now or never."

_And I might still cry  
><em>_I might still bleed  
><em>_These thorns in my side  
><em>_This heart on my sleeve_

Santana put the brush down on the dresser. It was true, she might still cry. And her heart might still bleed. But I'm going to be okay, she reminded herself. I'm going to be okay without her and her sweet lady kisses. I can and I will find someone else. Starting today, the brand-new Santana wears her heart on her sleeve. No more will she hide her heart away from the rest of the world and from potential girlfriends. No more will she hide herself away from what could be the truest love ever.

_And lightning may strike  
><em>_This ground at my feet  
><em>_And I might still crash  
><em>_But I still believe_

Santana knew that she would crash. What teenager didn't? What person, for that matter, didn't crash every now and again? What person didn't have lightning strike the ground at their feet, leaving behind smoke and tears? But Santana knew that now she could at least believe. She could believe in herself, and in others. She could, in fact, believe in love, something she had been very cynical about until she had gotten here and had seen true love come together. She had never thought two radically different people such as Puck and Kurt could come together as one, but now she knew it to be very much possible.

_If this is the moment I stand here all alone  
><em>_With everything I have inside, everything I own  
><em>_I might be afraid  
><em>_But it's my turn to be brave_

"It really is okay," Kurt whispered to Tallulah. "Santana…I know she might seem hard and bitchy and all, but she really is a sweetheart. And she's really fun to hang out with. She needs someone to love, and you need to_ be_ loved. You can do it. Just go in there. You don't have to talk to her. Just go and sit with her." She turned her head to look at him. Her eyes were questioning, asking if she could really do this. "Yes," Kurt whispered. "You can". Tallulah took a shaky breath and walked into the room.

_If this is the last time before we say goodbye  
><em>_At least it's the first day of the rest of my life  
><em>_I can't be afraid  
><em>'_Cause it's my turn to be brave_

Santana turned around at the sudden noise to see her roommate standing behind her. "Hi, Tallulah. How are you today?" Santana asked politely, not expecting an answer.

"I'm okay," Tallulah whispered.

Santana's eyes widened. "Did you just say something?" She asked in disbelief.

"I'm okay," Tallulah said a little louder. "I'm okay." Her voice was hoarse and scratchy from having been unused for so long. Santana couldn't help but to notice that she had a pretty voice, despite the hoarseness.

"You're talking," Santana said in awe. "You have a really pretty voice."

Tallulah blushed. "Thanks. You do, too." The more the spoke, the stronger her voice seemed to become.

"Thank you," Santana replied. "Would you like to sit down?" Tallulah nodded. Kurt watched on, bug-eyed. He hadn't quite expected this to happen, but he couldn't have been more pleased with the results. "You go, girl," he whispered. He watched as Tallulah sat down on her bed.

"How old are you?"

"Sixteen," Tallulah said softly.

"Me, too," Santana said.

"I used to be in choir," Tallulah said.

"Really?" Santana was surprised. "So you like to sing?"

Tallulah nodded. "I was wondering if you could help me with a song," she said shyly.

"Of course," Santana said. "When would you like to start?"

"How about right now?"

"Okay," Santana smiled. Tallulah gave her a shy smile in return.

From his hiding place, Kurt smiled, too. Operation: Get Santana a Girlfriend was well underway, he thought. Now for Phase Two.

_Wait. What _was _Phase Two, anyway?_

_Only Kurt would know the answer to that one, devious mind he was. _


	13. Set Fire to the Rain

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or "Set Fire to the Rain".**

**Note: Okay, another last-minute song choice. I just discovered this song this morning, and I've never actually heard it. So this is totally just off the lyrics. This is more of a Kurt chapter; the next one will focus much more on Santana/Tallulah. Also, 24 hours til Born this Way! So excited! Keep reviewing, loves.**

Kurt smiled as Tallulah chatted away with Santana at breakfast the next morning. The nurses didn't quite know what was going on. They couldn't see how a girl who, up to that point had been mute, was suddenly talking a mile a minute with her roommate. Santana was the only one she would talk to, though. She still refused to talk to the psychologists and nurses. She did occasionally give Kurt a tiny smile, however. The nurses shrugged it off; at least she was talking to one person, and that was a big step towards her road to recovery. Kurt was just excited that today was another visiting day, and that he'd get to see his boyfriend again. _His boyfriend_! It felt so good to say that. This was Kurt's first boyfriend, something he'd been looking forward to ever since he first determined that he liked boys. It was around then that he started collecting teen magazines in search of dating tips. He had a collection of _Seventeen_ magazines hidden under his bed, right next to his _Vogues_ and wedding magazines. Now that he actually had a boyfriend, all of those dating tips seemed to have flown right out of his head. Oh, well, he thought. I'll just wing this one for now.

Puck walked in a little while after visiting hours started, and Kurt flung himself into his arms. "Babyyyyyyyyy," he squealed.

"Good to see you, too," Puck chuckled. He hugged Kurt tightly. "I love you."

"Love you, too," Kurt murmured into Puck's chest.

"Who's that?" Tallulah whispered to Santana.

"That's Puck, Kurt's new boyfriend. He goes to school with us."

Tallulah nodded. "He's handsome. They make a nice couple." She blushed.

"They sure do," Santana said forlornly.

"Wait right here," Kurt said, leading Puck to a chair. "I have a surprise for you."

Puck groaned. "Don't tell me it's a scarf or something like that."

Kurt made a face. "No. It's something better."

Puck's face lit up. "A blowjob?"

Kurt looked horrified. "No! A song! God, Puck, do you really think I'd do that out here in the open?"

Puck grinned wickedly. "I dunno. Would you?"

"Absolutely not," Kurt scoffed. "I have my dignity, thanks very much. Now do you want your song or not?"

"Yes, please," Puck looked sheepish.

"This is for you," Kurt bowed his head and clasped his hands together, resembling an angel.

_I let it fall, my heart_  
><em>And as it fell, you rose to claim it<em>  
><em>It was dark and I was over<em>  
><em>Until you kissed my lips and you saved me<em>

Kurt just loved this song. It made him feel so happy, and now he could safely say that it applied to him. His heart was falling, falling into a black abyss. He knew it would hit the bottom soon, and that nobody would pick it up. He knew that it would just lie there, forgotten and alone. Kurt had nowhere else to go, nothing else to do, nobody to live for. Then, who should waltz into Kurt's life but Noah Puckerman? The last thing Kurt would've expected was for Puck to have kissed him, kissed him on the lips and made him feel like he was flying. That kiss had saved Kurt, it really had. It had lifted him up from that dark place, made him feel whole again.

_My hands, they're strong_  
><em>But my knees were far too weak<em>  
><em>To stand in your arms<em>  
><em>Without falling to your feet<em>

Santana peered from the kitchen into the main room. She rolled her eyes. How many times would they do this damn cute singing-to-each-other thing before she got sick of it? It was cute and all, but Santana just wished that someone could sing to her for once, instead of her always being the one to sing to people. She wished that she could find a love as pure as this one. She just saw the way Puck was looking at Kurt, and her heart ached. She wanted to squeal out of happiness for her friend and to cry her eyes out at the same time. Tallulah looked over, too. "He has a beautiful voice," she said softly.

_But there's a side to you_  
><em>That I never knew, never knew<em>  
><em>All the things you'd say<em>  
><em>They were never true, never true<em>  
><em>And the games you play<em>  
><em>You would always win, always win<em>

Kurt had never dared to guess that Puck would turn out to be gay. He would've never seen this softer, gentler, romantic side of him. Kurt had always longed for Puck to show a side of himself like this, and now he finally saw it. And he liked what he saw. All the things Puck said were never true. He had lied about so many things, that Kurt had been extra-cautious to make sure that this relationship wasn't just a lie, too. He had to make sure that Puck wouldn't break his heart, too, like he had broken so many others. But all Kurt had to do was look up at Puck's face to see that this wasn't true. He knew that his heart wouldn't be broken this time around.

_But I set fire to the rain_  
><em>Watched it pour as I touched your face<em>  
><em>Well, it burned while I cried<em>  
><em>'Cause I heard it screaming out your name, your name<em>

Kurt poured all of his emotion into that chorus. It reminded him so much of that night. It hadn't exactly been raining, but it had been dark out. He had set fire to that large, open field with no regrets. He had watched the flames and the smoke go all around him, and at first, it had felt calming. But then, he was terrified, and he wanted to go out. But there was no way out. There was no way until Puck had leapt over those flames, picked up Kurt in his arms, and brought him to safety. Kurt had cried, cried. He had watched the flames, and he had cried. While he was in that circle of fire, all he could hear was Puck's name. When he finally touched Puck's face in awe, he'd cried and watched the flames dance in his eyes.

_When I lay with you_  
><em>I could stay there, close my eyes, feel you're here forever<em>  
><em>You and me together<em>  
><em>Nothing gets better<em>

Puck smiled. He was liking this song. He wished he could do something to erase Kurt's memories of Karofsky, though. He knew it had to be tough, being beat up all the time like that. Puck came to the halting realization that, should this get out, he would be the new target in the bullying. He, too, would be tossed in dumpsters and flung against lockers. He, too, would be the reciever of harsh words and punches. He closed his eyes and prayed that it wouldn't come to that. Because if they tried it with him, he'd kick their asses. And if they even dared to hurt his boyfriend, he'd really kick their asses. Nobody hurts my Kurt, he thought. Nothing gets better than being with him.

_'Cause there's a side to you_  
><em>That I never knew, never knew<em>  
><em>All the things you'd say<em>  
><em>They were never true, never true<em>  
><em>And the games you play<em>  
><em>You would always win, always win<em>

Santana shuddered. She felt herself slipping into a flashback, something she didn't want to be slipping into right now.

"Are you okay?" Tallulah asked her gently.

"Have you ever been in a relationship?" Santana blurted out, desperate to get her mind off of the impending memory.

Tallulah looked taken aback. "No, never," she shook her head. "Why?"

"Just curious," Santana sighed, stealing a wistful glance at the two boys.

"I want something like them," Tallulah whispered.

"Me, too," Santana murmured. "Me, too."

_But I set fire to the rain,_  
><em>Watched it pour as I touched your face,<em>  
><em>Well, it burned while I cried<em>  
><em>'Cause I heard it screaming out your name, your name<em>

Puck was reminded of that night. He could still see the smoke off in the distance. He could still smell it on the horizon. He remembered the rush of adrenaline as he ran towards the fire, desperate to save Kurt from their consumation. He didn't want to think of what could've happened if he'd arrived just five minutes too late. He remembered hearing Kurt's panicked cries and screams for help. They chilled him to the bone still and haunted his nightmares. He could hear the flames roaring Kurt's name, calling out to him and wanting to take them for their very own. Puck wouldn't let them; he wouldn't let them take his baby.

_I set fire to the rain_  
><em>And I threw us into the flames<em>  
><em>Well, it felt something died<em>  
><em>'Cause I knew that that was the last time, the last time<em>

Kurt closed his eyes for a moment. He knew that that incident would be the last time he'd ever attempt something that foolish again. He knew that it would be the last hit he'd have with the flames like that. It was the last time he'd ever feel them caress his skin like that, the last time he'd touch them and love them like that. He threw himself into the flames, and Puck threw himself in after Kurt. Puck threw them back out of the flames again. Something had lived, and something had died. Kurt had survived while the flames had died. The flames inside of him were harder to kill, though. Sometimes, he still felt them deep down inside of him, waiting to come back and get him when he least expected them to.

_Sometimes I wake up by the door_  
><em>That heart you caught, must be waiting for you<em>  
><em>Even now that we're already over<em>  
><em>I can't help myself from looking for you<em>

Santana hit the table angrily.

"What's wrong?"

"They're so damn happy together," Santana muttered.

"Aren't you happy for your friend?" Tallulah asked innocently.

"Yes, but..." Santana let out a frustrated sigh. "That'll never be me," she tried to explain.

Tallulah frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I can't be loved like that," Santana said. "I just can't," she said again, going off Tallulah's exepression.

"But you're so pretty," Tallulah whispered.

"I am?"

_I set fire to the rain_  
><em>Watch it pour as I touch your face<em>  
><em>Well, it burned while I cried<em>  
><em>'Cause I heard it screaming out your name, your name<em>

Tallulah smiled. "Of course you are." She blushed. "You're the prettiest girl I've seen in a long time."

Santana looked confused. "I am? Really?"

"Yeah. You don't even know how pretty you are. I'm not pretty," she hung her head.

It was Santana's time to frown. "You're pretty," she said.

"M'not pretty. Not at all."

Santana laid a hand on Tallulah's. "But you are. Your eyes are really pretty."

"Thanks," Tallulah said. "But I can't believe you when you say it."

_I set fire to the rain_  
><em>And I threw us into the flames<em>  
><em>Well, it felt something died<em>  
><em>'Cause I knew that was the last time<em>  
><em>The last time, oh, oh<em>

"Why not?" Santana demanded. "I'm being honest!"

"Daddy always told me I'm not pretty," Tallulah let her hair fall in front of her face. "Not pretty at all."

"Bullshit," Santana declared. "Your dad is an idiot, girl. You're so pretty."

"I wish I could believe you," Tallulah muttered. "But I can't."

Santana sighed. She took a good look at Tallulah and felt her heart start to race. Oh God, no, she thought to herself. No, not again, please no...

_Let it burn_  
><em>Let it burn<em>  
><em>Let it burn<em>

Tears flooded Kurt's eyes. "That was beautiful," Puck whispered, getting up to hold Kurt tightly. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Kurt murmured. "I love you. More than I can say."

"You, too."

"I don't think I ever properly thanked you for saving my life," Kurt said shyly. "So I think I will now." He leaned up to kiss Puck gently. He closed his eyes in content. Puck's lips were soft and lovely. Kurt wanted to disappear into them forever. They weren't the dry, rough, cracked lips of Karofsky. They weren't hard and mean and demanding. Instead, they were gentle and loving, and seemed to be meant for him. Kurt wanted to vanish inside that kiss. After a few moments of pure bliss, he broke away.

"That was a hell of a thank you, Kurt," Puck laughed. "But I loved it. Best thank you present ever."

Kurt giggled. "I'm glad. Now, I need your help with something. You see that girl over there talking to Santana? Well..."

_One happy couple down, one to go. _

_Kurt had set fire to the rain, and he had gotten love out of the ashes._


	14. Confessions of a Broken Heart

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or "Confessions of a Broken Heart".**

**Note: Finally, Tallulah gets a song! And how excited are we for the 90-minute episode tonight? Too excited. So excited that we bought the new Kurt solo at 5:30 in the morning because we couldn't wait anymore (have you HEARD it? It's the most amazing thing my ears have heard). And what's with the downer in reviews? **

"Are you ready?" Santana put her hands on Tallulah's shoulders.

"I don't know if I can do this," she admitted, trembling.

"You can," Santana reassured her. "You can, and you'll be amazing."

"What if I start crying?"

"Just go with it. It'll be even more of a release for you. Go on, you'll be great."

Tallulah took a step forward. She was truly about to break her silence now, and she was terrified. She'd been working on this song with Santana for a few days now, but she was still afraid of messing it up. She was nervous that they wouldn't like it, and anxious that she would either pass out, have a panic attack flashback, or start crying. Her worst nightmare was always the audience not accepting the song. They had to accept this song, they just had to, or she'd go back into the silence. She looked out around the room, and her eyes landed upon Kurt's face. He gave her a smile of encouragement, and she relaxed a little. She could do this, she reminded herself.

_I wait for the postman to bring me a letter  
>I wait for the good Lord to make me feel better<br>And I carry the weight of the world on my shoulders  
>A family in crisis that only grows older<em>

She shuddered, thinking of her family. They were constantly in crisis, and she was the only one who could hold it all together. As they grew, their crises only grew with them. Her dad was an alcoholic, and her mom paid no mind to the things that went on around her. Her older brother was self-destructive, and her poor little sister was often left alone to fend for herself. Tallulah was the one stuck in the middle. She was in the middle of the children and in the middle of all the mess. She could feel the weight of the world on her shoulders constantly, feeling very much like Atlas.  
><em><br>Why'd you have to go?  
>Why'd you have to go?<br>Why'd you have to go?_

Everyone had always left Tallulah. Her parents left her alone all the time. Her friends, who had once been so close to her, had all left her. They'd left her in her time of need. Her best friend turned her back on Tallulah, leaving her stranded at the bottom of a deep, dark hole. Even her grandmother, the only one who had cared about Tallulah, left her, although Tallulah supposed it wasn't entirely her fault for getting breast cancer. Still, they had all left, and none had looked behind to remember that they'd forgotten someone.  
><em><br>Daughter to father, daughter to father  
>I am broken, but I am hoping<br>Daughter to father, daughter to father  
>I am crying, a part of me is dying and<br>These are, these are  
>The confessions of a broken heart<em>

Kurt cocked his head. There was something in the way that Tallulah was singing this that was entirely too real. He wondered what her backstory was. He knew all about being broken and about broken hearts. He knew all about crying and parts of him dying at a time. He wished he could just talk to her about all of this. He wished that she'd talk to someone other than Santana. He had the sinking feeling that her father had done something to her to make her afraid to be around men. He had the slow, sinking feeling that he had done something very, very terrible to her, and his heart broke for her. He knew what it was like. And he wished he could let her know.

_And I wear all your old clothes, your polo sweater  
>I dream of another you<br>The one who would never  
>Never leave me alone to pick up the pieces<br>A daddy to hold me, that's just what I needed_

That's all Tallulah needed. All she needed was a father to hold her and tell her everything was going to be okay. All she wanted was somebody, anybody, to hold her and tell her that everything was going to be okay, to let her know what she was loved. They'd all left her alone to pick up the pieces of her shattered family. They'd left her to pick up the broken shards of her broken life. She just wanted to find love from somebody, anybody, and she didn't care who it was from as long as they loved her.  
><em><br>So why'd you have to go?  
>Why'd you have to go?<br>Why'd you have to go?_

Kurt entirely felt for her. People had left his life, too. His mother came to mind. It had been eight years, and Kurt had never gotten over it. The psychologists had always told him that it was perfectly normal not to get over it, that he was fine. He had loved his mother so much. She'd loved him unconditionally, even through all of the tea parties and requests to join ballet classes and the pleas for sensible heels. She had known he was gay before he even knew that he was gay, and she didn't care. He missed his mother so, so much, and wished she had been there to see Puck's confession of love, to see their first kiss together. He wondered if she'd be proud.  
><em><br>Daughter to father, daughter to father  
>I don't know you, but I still want to<br>Daughter to father, daughter to father  
>Tell me the truth, did you ever love me?<br>'Cause these are, these are  
>The confessions of a broken heart<em>

Tallulah doubted her father had ever loved her. From what he had told her, he didn't even love her as a baby. He had longed for another son, and he got a daughter instead. And a daughter with health problems, at that. Tallulah had been born a month premature, and had had health problems ever since. Her father had always looked down upon her, even when she brought home A-pluses on her tests and quizzes. He had told her she could do better when she got a 98% on a project, and he would beat her if she protested or talked back. You didn't hurt the people you loved.  
><em><br>I love you  
><em>_I love you  
>I love you<br>I, I love you_

"What's up with her?" Kurt whispered to Santana.

"What do you mean?" She whispered back.

"Look. She's trembling all over, and she's crossing her legs all funny. You don't think…?"

Santana shrugged. "I don't know. It's a possibility, though. I'll…I'll try to talk to her about it later."

Kurt gave her a Look. "Okay, but if she goes back into silence again…"

"She won't," Santana promised him. "I'll make sure of that."  
><em><br>Daughter to father, daughter to father  
>I don't know you, but I still want to<br>Daughter to father, daughter to father  
>Tell me the truth<br>Did you ever love me?  
>Did you ever love me?<em>

"That's a good girl," he whispered to her.

"Daddy, stop, you're hurting me!"

"Shut up or I'll make it even worse."

"Ouch, Daddy, please!"

"I warned you, you stupid bitch."

"Oh God, please stop, please…"

"You deserve this Tallulah. This is your punishment."

"Stop, please, I'm begging…"

_These are  
>The confessions of a broken heart<br>Ohhh...yeah  
>I wait for the postman to bring me a letter<em>

Tallulah ran off to her room, sobbing. Santana wheeled furiously after her.

"Go away!" Tallulah yelled at her from facedown on her bed.

"No. Tell me what's going on, honey."

"Just go away," Tallulah sobbed. "Please just leave me alone, Santana."

"Not until you tell me what's wrong," Santana set her foot down.

"You wouldn't understand," Tallulah moaned. "You wouldn't understand what I've been through, what he's done to me."

"He raped you, didn't he?"

Tallulah turned her head to look at Santana. "H…how did you…?"

"I've been there," Santana whispered. "Not my father, but…" she shrugged. "It's happened."

Tallulah crinkled her brow. "Who?"

"My cousin," Santana said. "He was babysitting me, and, well…"

"How old were you?" Tallulah interrupted.

"Six," Santana admitted. "It wasn't full penetration, but he did touch me down there on more than one occasion. And he made me touch his."

"Then you had it lucky," Tallulah said darkly. "He didn't actually stick it in you."

Santana shook her head. "No. But it was traumatizing. I guess I liked the attention…he babysat a lot, because my parents were always out at some fancy dinner or another, so they were never really around…and he gave me the attention I craved, even if it was the wrong kind of attention. It's kind of why I became a slut in my later years; for the attention."

Tallulah frowned. "You're not a slut, though."

"Not anymore, really. But trust me, I got around at McKinley. And I've had mono so much, it's turned into stereo."

Tallulah giggled. "So you've been through it, too?"

Santana nodded. "Yes. You're not alone. Kurt's been through it, too."

Tallulah gasped. "Kurt?"

"It wasn't his father," Santana explained. "But it was a bully, and it happened. It happened twice, actually. Both times were in school. And both times, nobody did anything about it."

Tallulah shook her head. "That's just so fucked up."

"Majorly fucked up," Santana agreed. "But he's gotten so much stronger since."

Tallulah wiped the tears from her face. "Maybe I should talk to him," she mused.

"You should," Santana told her. "He'll help you. He's the most caring person you'll ever meet, Tallulah, and he'll be there to just listen and not judge."

"Thanks," Tallulah whispered.

"You gonna be okay?"

"Not today," she said softly. "But maybe tomorrow."

_The three would be linked together through their traumas forever. _


	15. Learn to be Lonely

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or "Learn to be Lonely".**

**Note: So how much did we love "Born This Way"? So, so amazing. Arguably the best Glee episode of the season. Someone, please hand Chris Colfer his Emmy. That is all. (Oh, and keep reviewing!)**

**Note 2: This is mostly a dialogue chapter. I really wanted to do this song, as it's so beautiful, but I felt it worked more as background music than as an inner-monologue song. Please don't hate!**

"What are _you_ doing here?" Kurt asked, half-amused and half-annoyed.

"I just wanted to say hi," she whispered. "We really miss you."

"Well, that's good and all, Rachel, but I didn't think you cared about me all that much."

"I do care, Kurt. I just pretend not to because you're so talented, and I'm always afraid you're doing to steal my spotlight."

"Did Schue send you to see when I'm coming home?"

She sighed. "No. I came on my own accord. Oh, and Puck wanted me to give you this note. He's very sorry that he couldn't make it today, he had his cousin's Bar Mitzvah, but he wanted me to give you this."

Kurt took the note. "Thanks, Rachel. Why don't you sit down for awhile?"

"Are you sure?" She asked tentatively. "I don't want to intrude on a therapy session or something."

"No, we don't have those during visiting hours. We're free to do whatever, within reason."

Rachel smiled. "Do you want to sing together? Our last duet was so beautiful. You know, our voices go really well together."

Kurt gave a tiny eye roll. "Is there ever a time when you're _not_ singing?"

Rachel shook her head. "Never."

Kurt laughed. As much as he hated to admit it, he actually kind of missed Rachel. "A duet would be lovely," he said softly.

"Good, 'cause I came prepared," she pulled some sheet music out of her bag. "Where's the piano?"

"We don't have one," Kurt said. "We have to go acapella."

Rachel frowned. "Oh. Well, that's fine, too. It might make the song better. You're familiar with it, right?"

Kurt stared at her. "Rach. I'm gay. Of course I'm familiar with a song from a movie musical, even if it was only played during the credits."

Rachel giggled. "Right, sorry. Well, shall we? And wait…where's Santana?"

Kurt shrugged. "Probably her room. She's fine. She'll be in the casts for another few weeks, but she's getting better."

"Good. Are you ready, then?"

Kurt nodded. "So ready." He looked at Rachel, and she nodded for him to begin.

_Child of the wilderness  
><em>_Born into emptiness  
><em>_Learn to be lonely  
><em>_Learn to find your way in darkness_

Santana peered out of the door. She rolled her eyes. Kurt was singing…yet again. But there was something different about today; Rachel was there. "What the…?" Santana started to say. "Why is Berry here?"

"Berry?" Tallulah looked up from her crossword puzzle.

"Rachel. Rachel Berry, another girl from our school. She's out there with Kurt right now. They're doing a duet, I think."

Tallulah nodded. "I think I've heard of this Rachel girl. Doesn't she post like, a hundred videos of herself singing to MySpace?"

Santana cracked up. "Yeah, that's Rachel, all right."

_Who will be there for you?  
><em>_Comfort and care for you?  
>Learn to be lonely<br>__Learn to be your one companion_

"She has a good voice," Tallulah said quietly.

"Yeah, but she's a total diva. She totally flipped out when she wasn't given a solo once. And she flipped out again when she found out she wasn't singing lead at Sectionals last year. I actually got a solo at Sectionals. Man, she was pissed."

Tallulah's eyes widened. "You got a solo at a competition? Wow, that's amazing."

Santana flushed. "It wasn't that amazing," she whispered.

"I'm sure it was," Tallulah said, scribbling down something in her puzzle book. "I've heard you sing, remember? You're really, really good. And you have a better attitude than that Berry chick."

"Thanks," Santana murmured.

_Never dreamed out in the world  
><em>_There are arms to hold you  
><em>_You've always known  
><em>_Your heart was on its own_

"Their voices blend well," Tallulah said casually. "Do they duet often?"

"No," Santana admitted. "Usually, they're catfighting for the next solo."

"Sounds like good TV time," Tallulah joked.

"Trust me, I wish I had a camera in that room sometimes."

Tallulah giggled. "But really, they're lovely together."

"Kurt's our best singer," Santana stated simply. "And Rachel's good, too."

"I think you're their best singer," Tallulah said softly. "And their prettiest."

_So laugh in your loneliness  
><em>_Child of the wilderness  
><em>_Learn to be lonely  
><em>_Learn how to love life that is lived alone_

Santana sighed. "I'm not their prettiest. Their bitchiest, maybe, but I'm not the prettiest."

Tallulah cocked her head. "Really? How is there anyone prettier than you in that room?"

"Quinn," Santana murmured. "And Brittany…"

"Brittany's the girl that was here the other week, right?"

Santana nodded. "Yeah. I love…used to love…used to have…feelings for her."

"And she has a boyfriend, right? Typical," Tallulah snorted.

"I know," Santana groaned. I'm so fucking stupid!"

Tallulah furrowed her brow. "Why?"

"To have thought that she and I would ever have something," Santana whispered, beginning to feel the tears come to her eyes. "To have thought that I could have a chance at a girl as beautiful and wonderful as her. To have thought that she would just leave her boyfriend for me."

_Learn to be lonely  
><em>_Learn to be your one companion_

Tallulah got off her bed, setting her puzzle book beside her. She walked over to Santana and knelt beside her. "You're not stupid," she whispered. "Not stupid at all."

Santana wiped the tears from her eyes. "Yes, I am. I have to learn to live alone. I have to accept the fact that I'll never find anybody. I have to learn to be lonely, to be my one companion. I'm on my own as soon as I get out of here."

Tallulah shook her head. "No," she whispered again. "You're not alone. I've been through this, too. You'll be loved. How could you not be? You're talented and pretty and…well, you're amazing, Santana. Any girl would be lucky to have you."

_Never dreamed out in the world  
><em>_There are arms to hold you  
><em>_You've always known  
><em>_Your heart was on its own_

"I'm not the amazing one," Santana said. "You are, Tallulah."

Tallulah shook her head for the second time. "No, not really."

"Yes, yes you are," Santana tried to tell her. "You've been through so, so much. I haven't been through everything that you have…and I don't think I could. I can't believe anyone would hurt you like that. You're just so…so…"

Tallulah looked at her in question, her heart beating rapidly. She had developed a crush on Santana in the past couple of weeks, and was desperate to know what Santana really thought about her. Yet, she was terrified of another heartbreak. She held her breath.

"So beautiful," Santana finally whispered. "You're just so beautiful."

_So laugh in your loneliness  
><em>_Child of the wilderness  
><em>_Learn to be lonely  
><em>_Learn how to love life that is lived alone_

"I'm not beautiful," Tallulah felt a tear run down her cheek. "I'm not beautiful at all."

"But you are," Santana said. "You're so beautiful. It's not typical beauty, but inside…inside, you're the most beautiful person I've seen."

Tallulah looked up at her, blinking and looking utterly lost. Santana looked into her eyes and all at once saw herself reflected into them. She knew right then that this was more than just a beautiful girl. She knew that this was the girl she wanted to be with.

"I like you, Tally. I really, really like you. Like you-like you."

Tallulah gasped. "R...really?"

_Learn to be lonely  
><em>_Life can be lived  
><em>_Life can be loved alone_

Santana nodded. "Yes. I wanted to give you this a long time ago." She leaned down and left a chaste, quick kiss upon Tallulah's lips. Tallulah didn't even have time to close her eyes; it was over before it started. She wanted more, so much more.

"I like you-like you, too," she murmured. She straightened up a little to kiss Santana's cheek. She kissed Santana's cheek a couple of times, and then began working her way to Santana's lips. She kissed those lips once, twice, both feather-light and quick-as-you-please.

"I like that," Tallulah blushed.

"Me, too," Santana admitted.

"So are we…?"

Santana paused. "Can we give it a little time first?"

Tallulah smiled. "Perfect." She kissed Santana again, a little longer this time.

Kurt let out a whoop of joy. "I think he saw," Santana mumbled against Tallulah's lips.

"I think he did," Tallulah giggled.

Kurt grinned and grabbed Rachel's hand. "Operation: Get Santana A Lady-Love is a success!" He cried happily.

"I didn't know that that Operation was in effect," Rachel said slowly. "But I am happy for her. And for you."

Kurt looked at her, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Puck. Aren't you two together?"

"Yes, but how did you know? We haven't told anyone yet."

Rachel looked embarrassed. "I read that note he wanted me to give you. And he signed it 'love, Puck. So I just put two and two together and…"

"It's fine," Kurt sighed. "Just…don't tell anyone, Rachel. I mean it," he added, seeing the look of the news of good gossip on her face. "I mean it, Rachel. Puck isn't out yet. He doesn't want anyone to know."

"Fine," she sighed. "But for the record, I think it's really cute."

He hugged her. "Thanks, Berry."

"May the power of Barbra be upon you," she whispered.

Kurt giggled. "And may the power of Patti be with you."

She laughed. "We miss you, Kurt. Get better soon so you can come back to us."

Kurt smiled. "I'm already getting better."

_And so were Santana and Tallulah. The phoenixes were all rising from the ashes at long last._


	16. Believe In Me

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or "Believe In Me".**

**Note: Sorry for no update yesterday; I had a dance class. And, as of today/tonight (Friday), I am 27 school days away from graduation. Hoorah! Glee Live is also coming up in early June. I can't contain my excitement for seeing the incredible Chris Colfer live. Or Darren Criss. Review this chapter, please.  
><strong>  
>"Santanaaaaaa," Kurt pounced on her.<p>

"Whaaaat?" She complained in good humor.

"Hi," Kurt giggled.

She rolled her eyes. "Being in love sure has made you silly."

"But I've never felt so _alive_, Santana! I feel so amazing!"

"That's good," she said softly. "Really good. It's great, Kurt."

He flopped down and sighed. "Do you ever feel like you're flying?"

She looked at him strangely. "No…Kurt, are you on something?"

"Just the endorphins of looooove," he sighed happily.

"Well, take your endorphins somewhere else, please. I'm cranky today."

Kurt groaned in sympathy. "Your time of the month?"

She glared at him. "My foot is near your nuts, Kurt."

Kurt stood up quickly, backing away from her. "Noted."

"Ah, I'm sorry, Kurt. I'm just…I don't know."

"I'll just leave you alone to think," he said quietly. "But I'll be right over there. You know, in case you need me."

"Okay. Thanks, Kurt. Sorry for yelling at you."

"It's okay. Just…take your time," he warned.

Tallulah went up behind Santana, putting her arms around Santana's neck. "Hi," she whispered.

"Will you do a duet with me?" Santana blurted out.

"Um, sure, okay," Tallulah's eyes widened. "I'd love to. What were you thinking of?"

"Here," Santana handed Tallulah the lyrics she'd gotten Brittany to print up her last visit. Tallulah looked them over. "Perfect," she declared. "When do you want to do this?"

"Now," Santana stated firmly. "Right now."

"But-"

"I need this now," Santana begged. "Please…I need to do this."

Tallulah hung her head. "Okay. Whatever you want, sweetie."

_I'm losing myself  
>Trying to compete<br>With everyone else  
>Instead of just being me<em>

Kurt turned his head sharply at the sound of Santana's voice. "Oh, God," he muttered. He hated when Santana sung things like this. It meant that she was taking a step backwards, and he had thought she was moving forward. Wasn't she happy with Tallulah? Were they even dating yet? Kurt didn't know. Maybe I got too excited over that kiss, he thought sadly. Santana, don't you know you don't have to compete with those other girls? Don't you know that we…that I…love you for you?  
><em><br>Don't know where to turn  
>I've been stuck in this routine<br>I need to change my ways  
>Instead of always being weak<em>

I'm so weak, Santana thought. I'm just so weak right now. I have no idea where to turn. Here, I have this amazing girl who's been more than anyone ever should have to go through, except maybe for Kurt. I want to go out with her, to make her mine, but I'm just so afraid to. I'm terrified of being out at school. What if I end up like Kurt, tormented and bullied for being me? I need to change this, to change all of my ways if I truly want to be the real me, the new me, but I just can't. I'm not as strong as they are.  
><em><br>I don't wanna be afraid  
>I wanna wake up feeling beautiful today<br>And know that I'm okay  
>Cause everyone's perfect in unusual ways<br>So you see, I just wanna believe in me_

Kurt shook his head, beginning to cry a little. But Santana, he thought. You are beautiful. You don't…you _shouldn't_…have to want to wake up feeling beautiful. You should wake up feeling beautiful every day automatically, and not want to. You're just so frickin' gorgeous, and you don't even see it. And yes, everyone's perfect in unusual ways. I believe in you. Why can't you believe in you? I didn't use to believe in me, but now I do. And you can believe in yourself, too. It just takes a little time.  
><em><br>The mirror can lie  
>Doesn't show you what's inside<br>And it, it can tell you you're full of life  
>It's amazing what you can hide<br>Just by putting on a smile_

This was something that the three of them could relate to. The mirror always showed you what you didn't want to see. The mirror would always show you the negatives. You'd just look into it and see fat or ugly. It doesn't show what's on the insides, and it never will. But you could hide anything just by putting on a smile. Kurt could hide his pain by just putting on a fake smile and a jaunt in his step. Santana could fake it as easily as she could sink into a split at cheerleading. But it was perhaps Tallulah that knew this the best. She had been faking a smile since she was three. And she could hide everything with it.

_I don't wanna be afraid  
>I wanna wake up feeling beautiful today<br>And know that I'm okay  
>Cause everyone's perfect in unusual ways<br>So you see, I just wanna believe in me_

I just want to wake up feeling beautiful for once, Santana thought. I just want to wake up feeling beautiful tomorrow, and the next day, and the next. I don't want to be afraid of being tormented and out and proud at school. I just want to know that I'm okay. I want to know that I can make it through the days and the nights that lie before me. I want to know that I'll find a love that will last. I'm done with the one-night stands and the fake romances. They make me feel so empty inside, and I hate it. I just want to believe in me.  
><em><br>I'm quickly finding out  
>I'm not about to break down<br>Not today  
>I guess I always knew<br>That I had all the strength to make it through_

Kurt nodded, hoping Santana would see him and know. Yes, babygirl, he thought. You have all the strength to make it through. You always have had that strength. That's more than I can say for myself. I haven't always had the strength. Or perhaps I did, but I didn't know I had that. If that makes any sense. But I'm not about to break down today, and neither are you. You can do this, and so can I. If I can tackle my first relationship head-on, then you can go into your first lesbian relationship, too. I'm always here for you.

_Not gonna be afraid  
>I'm going to wake up feeling beautiful today<br>And know that I'm okay  
>Cause everyone's perfect in unusual ways<br>So you see, now, now I believe in me  
>Now I believe in me<em>

Kurt ran up to Santana and hugged her. "I believe in you," he whispered.

"I'm going to wake up feeling beautiful tomorrow," she whispered back.

He brushed the tears from his eyes. "Yes," he murmured. "I love you."

"Love you, too."

Kurt stepped back. "But there's a girl here who loves you more than I do."

Santana looked over at Tallulah, who had retreated back to their room. "Kurt…I don't know…she's been through so much…and it'd be my first…"

Kurt steadied his hands on her shoulders. "You have to do this sometime, Santana. Do you want to go through your entire life with the 'what if'?" He looked away, then focused back on her face. "Come on, Santa Ana. I believe in you so much. I can't let you walk away from what might be the best thing ever."

Santana looked over at Tallulah, who was curled up on her bed. "You're right," she said quietly. "Thanks. Kurt, I…I can't thank you enough…for what you've done for me." She gave him a quick peck on the lips.

"You're welcome," he whispered. "Now go get your woman." He wheeled her to the room.

"Hi," she said. Tallulah looked up and waved in greeting.

"Thanks for singing with me," Santana said, feeling her face get warm.

"Anytime," Tallulah said softly, looking away.

"Look," Santana said. "I wanted to ask you something."

Tallulah dared to look at her. "Yes?"

"Do you want to try it? Being…girlfriends?"

Tallulah looked down at her hands. "You don't have to answer me now," Santana said quickly. "You can think about it, if you need to."

"I don't know," Tallulah said finally. "I'm sorry…I just don't…I don't know."

_I just wanna believe in me. _


	17. Addicted

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or "Addicted".**

**Note: I'm sorry that I didn't include the artist in the last chapter! So many of you were asking me who it was; it was Demi Lovato. I'll try to include the artists from now on (unless it's something obvious, of course). This one's by Kelly Clarkson. PLEASE keep reviewing; this one is really down in reviews compared to "Playing With Fire". **

Kurt sat in the corner, shaking. "Oh, God, oh, God," he muttered to himself. Samantha came over to sit with him.

"What's wrong, Kurt?"

"It's him," Kurt whispered feverishly. "It's him, he's there, he's hurting Kurt."

Samantha looked confused. "Who's hurting you?"

"It's him, it's him, oh God, it's him," Kurt said, rocking back and forth. Samantha got up and ran towards Santana.

"Santana, who hurt Kurt?"

"What do you mean, who hurt him?"

Samantha shuffled her feet. "He keeps rocking back and forth and whispering 'it's him.'"

"Karofsky," Santana said in a low growl.

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing. I mean, I know who Kurt's talking about. I'll take it from here." She wheeled herself over one-handedly to where Kurt was sitting. "Babe, what's up?"

"It's him," Kurt didn't even turn to face her. His eyes were glassy, and they were staring off into space, focusing on nothing in particular. "It's him."

Santana sighed. "Kurt, he's not here right now. We're at Lima Mercy, remember?"

"But he's here," Kurt whispered. "And he's hurting Kurt, and he's scared, and oh, oh, I'm scared, Mama!"

Santana shivered. Kurt was scaring her. "Kurt, your mom…" she stopped herself. She didn't want to upset him even more. "Kurt?"

He rocked back and forth violently. "Please stop hurting Kurt. Kurt's afraid, he's so afraid, oh, oh, it hurts!"

Santana shook her head, tears streaming down her face at the sight of this. "Nurse!" she called out in desperation.

"Kurt's scared, Santa Ana. He's so scared, so very scared, and he's being hurt so bad, so very bad."

The nurse came running over. "What is it?"

"I don't know," Santana cried. "He's having some sort of flashback and talking in third person and asking for his mother and…"

"We'll take care of it," the nurse reassured her. "Kurt, can you tell us what's wrong?"

"He's hurting Kurt," Kurt whimpered. "He's hurting Kurt, hurting Kurt so much."

_It's like you're a drug  
><em>_It's like you're a demon I can't face down  
><em>_It's like I'm stuck  
><em>_It's like I'm running from you all the time  
><em>_And I know I let you have all the power  
><em>_It's like the only company I seek is misery all around_

"Who's hurting you, Kurt?" The nurse tried.

"It's him, it's him," Kurt moaned. "And he's hurting Kurt."

"Kurt, we need to know who's hurting you so we can help."

"I think I know," Santana whispered. "It's…it's Dave Karofsky, his tormenter at school."

"Kurt, is Dave Karofsky hurting you?" The nurse asked slowly, as if she were talking to a toddler and not a teenager.

Kurt let out a howl. "He hurt Kurt so bad, stuck his private parts into Kurt and made Kurt bleed and tore him apart and made him bleed all over."

Santana couldn't bear this anymore. She wheeled back, her heart in pain. Kurt had been doing so well. What had made him go downhill like this so fast? She tried to think back, and it hit her with the thudding realization that it was probably his mother's birthday, or perhaps the anniversary of her death. It was causing him to have some sort of traumatic flashback. Perhaps it was PTSD, she thought, something she'd studied in Health class.

"Kurt, is Dave Karofsky the one that is hurting you?" The nurse tried again.

_It's like you're a leech  
><em>_Sucking the life from me  
><em>_It's like I can't breathe  
><em>_Without you inside of me  
><em>_And I know I let you have all the power  
><em>_And I realize I'm never gonna quit you over time_

"Stop hurting Kurt," Kurt whimpered. "Please stop hurting Kurt. He doesn't like it, doesn't like it at all, and he wants his mama."

"Kurt, your mother's dead," the nurse said firmly.

Big mistake, lady, Santana thought. You're only gonna make him worse.

Sure enough, Kurt let out another howl of anguish. "That's not true! Mama's alive, and she'll come along any minute to help Kurt!"

"Your mother is dead," the nurse said again. "She won't be here at all."

"Mama's fine, she's fine, she's fine and at home waiting for me," Kurt insisted.

"No, Kurt. She's not."

Kurt's face crumpled. "She's not?" His lip began to quiver.

"No. She's not."

Kurt let out a terrible scream. "Nooooooooo!" He yelled, beating his fists on the floor. "No, no, no, no!" He threw himself facedown on the floor, sobbing heavily.

"My God," the nurse breathed. "Fetch a sedative," she instructed an orderly who was monitoring the ward. He ran off to get it. "Kurt, just try to calm down," she told him.

"No, no, Mama's dead and Kurt's been badly hurt!"

_It's like I can't breathe  
><em>_It's like I can't see anything  
><em>_Nothing but you  
><em>_I'm addicted to you_

"Shh," the nurse tried to calm him. The orderly handed her the prepared needle. "You're just going to feel a tiny pinch…"

"No, don't hurt Kurt," Kurt moaned. "Don't hurt him anymore, please." The nurse gritted her teeth and administered the sedative. She only had to wait a few moments before Kurt's sobs subsided and his body went limp. "To his room," she whispered to the orderly, who picked Kurt up gently and laid him down on his bed. "Miss Lopez?" She waved Santana over.

"Yes?"

"This…Dave character…he raped Kurt, correct?"

"Yeah, twice. The first time was in the locker room at our school, and the second time was the boy's bathroom. After the second time was when Kurt tried to kill himself." She looked down at her hands, feeling guilty that she had backed away instead of trying to help.

"And how old was he when his mother died?"

"Eight," Santana answered promptly. "Is he…what's wrong with him?"

The nurse sighed. "I'm really not sure, sweetie. It might be a case of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder—PTSD. It might be a suppressed memory that we do not know about that is causing him to revert back to his childhood, before his mother's death. There's no way to be sure."

"God," Santana muttered. "I feel so…"

"Guilty?" The nurse supplied. "It's natural, Santana. It's okay to be scared when something like this happens. He'll sleep off the sedative for an hour or two, and then we can try to talk to him then."

"Okay," Santana whispered, staring at her lap.

_It's like I can't think  
><em>_Without you interrupting me  
><em>_In my thoughts, in my dreams  
><em>_You've taken over me  
><em>_It's like I'm not me  
><em>_It's like I'm not me_

Tallulah saw Santana looking upset, and wandered over to her. She'd been talking to one of the psychologists, and had missed the whole episode. "What's wrong?"

"Kurt…he had some sort of…some sort of breakdown," Santana said slowly, trying not to remember Kurt sitting on the floor, screaming and shaking.

"Do they know what's wrong? Tallulah sat in a chair next to Santana.

"No, not yet. They had to…sedate him…and they don't know anything."

"I'm sorry. I know that has to suck, seeing how close you two are and all." There was a pause. "Were you always this close?"

"No," Santana admitted. "We were always in different cliques until Glee. I was always with the cheerleaders, and Kurt…well, he was always a bit of a free spirit, never really fitting in with any one clique." She swallowed, hard. "And even when we were in Glee, we were never really close. I was still a cheerleader, and he was just 'the gay kid'. It wasn't until a few months ago that we really clicked."

"What brought you together?"

Santana looked off into a corner of the room. "Our pains," she said quietly, vaguely.

Tallulah decided not to press this any further. "I wish I had a friend like that."

"You've never had a best friend?" Santana frowned.

"No, not really," Tallulah looked at her feet.

_It's like I'm lost  
><em>_It's like I'm giving up slowly  
><em>_It's like you're a ghost that's haunting me  
><em>_Leave me alone!_

Kurt tossed and turned fitfully. "No, no," he moaned in his drug-induced sleep. He kept replaying the same scenes over and over, only they were scarier and much more intense. He kept seeing Karofsky coming at him, kept seeing him leering from around the corner, lusting over Kurt's body. He kept seeing and hearing and feeling everything that Karofsky had ever said or done to him. He felt the sharp pains both in his heart and in his mind and all over his body. "No, please…" the scene swiftly changed from the locker room to his mother lying in the hospital bed, dying. "Mama, Mama, come back to me," Kurt whimpered. He saw the doctor flip the switch that caused his mother to stop living, saw the life leave her body. She'd left him alone to fend for himself, to try to survive in a world that was always against him. He saw Mercedes in the same hospital bed, she, too dying and leaving him on his own.

_And I know these voices in my head  
><em>_Are mine alone  
><em>_And I know I'll never change my ways  
><em>_If I don't give you up now_

Santana looked over, hearing Kurt cry out in his sleep. "God, it kills me to see him like that."

Tallulah nodded. "I can't imagine what you're feeling right now."

"And he was doing so well!" Santana felt the tears come back. "He was doing so well!"

Tallulah shifted in her chair uncomfortably. "I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything," Santana begged her. "Please, just don't say anything."

Tallulah looked stung. "Okay. I won't, then."

Santana sighed. "I didn't…I'm sorry, I…I just don't want…"

"No, I understand," Tallulah nodded. "You can't stand to see someone you love be so hurt like this."

Santana looked away, not wanting to look at Tallulah right now.

"Is this because I told you I don't know if I want to be with you?"

Santana whipped her head around. "This has nothing to do with that."

Tallulah raised a brow. "Okay, so maybe it has something to do with that," Santana admitted. "But it's just…why did you turn me down?"

"I didn't turn you down," Tallulah pointed out. "I just said that I don't know." She stared at her hands. "You don't get it, Santana. I like you, really, I do. It's just that you'd be my first relationship…and I don't know if I'm ready for that yet."

_It's like I can't breathe  
><em>_It's like I can't see anything  
><em>_Nothing but you  
><em>_I'm addicted to you_

"But I'm ready for it," Santana said. "Why aren't you?"

"Look, I don't know about you, but my family isn't accepting of…this."

Santana frowned. "Is that all? You're sixteen. You can move out in a couple years. No big deal. And your family treats you like shit anyway."

"But they're still my family," Tallulah whispered.

"But they don't care about you. Family doesn't let family self-destruct."

"Well, my family does…and I'm sorry, Santana, but I still care about them."

Santana groaned in frustration. "But there has to be some another reason why you're not ready for this. Is it your school? Oh God, don't tell me you go to a Catholic school."

"No, I don't go to a Catholic school," she chuckled. "But no one's out at my school. I'd be the only one. I mean, I'm sure there are other gays, but they're not out."

Santana could relate. "Kurt's the only one out at McKinley. Although Karofsky's in the closet, and I have my suspicions about Sam."

"See? This is Ohio, Santana. It's not New York, or L.A., or whatever. People just aren't out here."

"Maybe they should be," Santana said slowly. "Maybe we should make a change."

_It's like I can't think  
><em>_Without you interrupting me  
><em>_In my thoughts, in my dreams  
><em>_You've taken over me  
><em>_It's like I'm not me  
><em>_It's like I'm not me_

Kurt awoke with a start. His dream had ended with him at the bottom of a six-foot grave, lying down in the dirt, staring up at the sky as Karofsky stood over him, laughing. His body was drenched with sweat, and yet, he was shivering. "What's wrong with me?" He muttered, trying to sit up. "Kurt, lie back down," a nurse instructed him, bustling into his room. "I'm cold," he whispered. She felt his forehead.

"You're burning up," she murmured. "Let's take your temperature." Kurt opened his mouth expertly, feeling the cold thermometer under his tongue. "One-oh-three," the nurse clucked her tongue. "No wonder you had an episode back there, honey. You have a high fever."

"Great," Kurt muttered.

"Here, we'll give you some Motrin to try and bring down that fever," the nurse hurried off to get a couple of the pills. She came back with two of them and a cup of water. "Here. Take these, and we'll check on you in a couple of hours." He swallowed them obediently.

"Can I see Santana?" He asked hopefully.

"Probably not a good idea, if whatever you have is contagious," the nurse said. He flopped back on the pillow. "But I'll tell her that you're better," she assured him.

_I'm hooked on you, I need a fix  
><em>_I can't take it, just one more hit  
><em>_I promise I can deal with it  
><em>_I'll handle it, quit it  
><em>_Just a little bit more to get me through this_

"Santana, please kiss me…I need to make sure…"

Santana blinked the tears from her eyes, but leaned in and kissed Tallulah softly on the lips, lingering there for a few moments before breaking away.

Tallulah began to cry. "God, that just made it all the more difficult…I'm so confused right now…I love you Santana, but I don't know if I can do this."

"I'm sorry if I'm interrupting, ladies," the nurse stood over them awkwardly. "But Santana, Kurt's awake."

Santana looked up with a start. "He is? Is he okay? Can I see him?"

"He has a bit of a fever, but he seems to be relatively back to normal now." She saw Santana look into his room curiously. "You can't see him right now, in case what he has is contagious," the nurse told her, as if reading her thoughts. "But if his temperature is down in a few hours, and we figure out what's wrong with him, you may see him."

Santana sighed. "Thanks," she said.

"Well, that's good news, I guess," Tallulah said quietly, watching the nurse walk away.

"Yeah, I guess," Santana said distractedly, wondering if the fever was the cause of Kurt's mental breakdown.

_I'm hooked on you, I need a fix  
><em>_I can't take it, just one more hit  
><em>_I promise I can deal with it  
><em>_I'll handle it, quit it  
><em>_Just a little bit more to get me through this_

Kurt lay in his bed, shivering slightly, but feeling it go away as the fever reducers swam through his veins. Of all times to get sick, he thought. He hoped he didn't get anyone else sick, either. He looked at the wall, wishing he had a window in there to let in some air. He missed having a window in his bedroom. He rolled over to face the wall. He wanted to get out of there as soon as he could, but he didn't know how soon that would be. He came to the sudden realization that he could not remember what had happened before he woke up in his bed, sweating. "Shit," he muttered. Why couldn't he remember? He knew something had to have happened for him to find himself in bed in the middle of the day. He wondered if perhaps he had passed out or something. But something in the back of his mind told him that this was not what had occurred.

_It's like I can't breathe  
><em>_It's like I can't see anything  
><em>_Nothing but you  
><em>_I'm addicted to you_

"Santana?" Tallulah put a hand on the Latina's shoulder.

"I'm worried about him," she whispered. "Why was he okay, and then all of a sudden, not?"

"You heard the nurse," Tallulah said quietly. "He has a fever. He was probably just delusional or something. He'll be fine in a few hours, probably."

"I'm not so sure," Santana said slowly. "Why did he get so sick so soon? Don't these kind of things build up over time?"

"Not always," Tallulah shook her head, "sometimes they hit a body really hard. I'm, um, interested in medicine," she said. "I was thinking of going pre-med in college."

"So it can just come overnight?" Santana frowned.

"Yeah. Besides that, maybe he didn't tell us that he was having symptoms before today. Maybe he's been tired lately, or feeling a little off and just didn't say anything."

Santana dared to look at her love interest. "Do you think he's going to be okay?"

"Yes," Tallulah smiled. "I really do think he's going to be okay."

_It's like I can't think  
><em>_Without you interrupting me  
><em>_In my thoughts, in my dreams  
><em>_You've taken over me  
><em>_It's like I'm not me  
><em>_It's like I'm not me_

"When will you know if you're ready to date me?"

"Tomorrow," Tallulah declared. "I'll know tomorrow. Just give me another night to think about this."

Santana nodded. "You promise?"

"I promise." Tallulah kissed Santana quickly. "I do love you. I just need one more night to make sure I'm ready for such a big step in my life."

"I understand," Santana said softly, even though she didn't completely. She cast her glance over at Kurt's room again. I wish I could talk to him, she thought. He'd know what to do.

_Because I'm addicted to her. _


	18. What I Did For Love

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or "What I Did For Love".**

**Note: I'm seeing a downer in reviews…why, good readers? Please do review. Reviews keep Kurt and Santana happy. Reviews make Kurt and Puck make out. And I know how much you guys love it when Kurt gets his sexy on. (This song is from A Chorus Line, by the way, in case you weren't sure)**

**Dedication: I'd like to dedicate this to a friend of mine who died two years ago today (5/1/09). **

"Kurt, the psychologist would like to talk to you today," the nurse said, checking his vital signs.

"Okay," he said softly. "How's my temperature?"

"98.6," she replied. "Must've been a 24-hour bug."

"All right," Kurt said, getting out of bed. "I'll go talk to her. Is she in the back room?"

"Yes, go right on in."

Kurt shook himself off and strutted away to the familiar therapy room. He knocked on the door. "Dr. Palmer?"

"Yes, Kurt, come in." He sighed and pushed the heavy wooden door open. The female psychologist smiled at him. "Hi, Kurt. How are we doing today?"

"Better, thanks," he said as he closed the door behind him. "What did you want to see me about?"

"Sit down, Kurt." He shrugged, but sat down on the couch anyway. "Kurt, do you remember anything that happened yesterday before 2 p.m.?"

Kurt shook his head. "No. I woke up in bed sweating and shivering. The nurse said I had a high fever. But I can't remember why I was in bed in the first place."

Dr. Palmer sighed. "Kurt, please direct your attention to this video that the security cameras happened to capture yesterday around noon." Kurt cocked his head and looked at the television screen. The doctor hit a button, and a grainy video filled the screen. Kurt squinted. He was seeing himself sitting on the floor and screaming things that didn't make sense. He couldn't figure out why he was talking in third person, or why he thought that his mother was alive. He kept watching the video, feeling more and more uncomfortable as the scene kept playing out. He saw Santana crying and calling for help, and a nurse trying to figure out what was wrong with him. The last thing he saw before the tape went blank was the nurse sedating him and his body going limp.

"What…what happened?" He dared to breathe.

"That's why I called you in here, Kurt. We're not entirely sure what happened. It's possible that you were hallucinating or delusional due to your high fever, but it seems as if you were bringing up some sort of repressed memory."

Kurt twisted his face in thought. "I don't think so. I remember…I remember having a dream…well, it was more of a series of flashbacks…of him hurting me…and my mom dying, and my best friend dying…and before I woke up, I was at the bottom of a grave, lying down in the dirt, and he was staring down at me, laughing."

"At the bottom of a grave?" Dr. Palmer asked.

"Yeah," Kurt shivered. "It was terrifying. That's when I woke up."

"And it wasn't a dream, but rather, flashbacks?"

"Yeah. It was like I was seeing my life in repeat. And it wasn't through my eyes…it was like I was seeing myself, like I was seeing all of these things happening through the eyes of someone else."

"Interesting," the doctor made a note. "Now, I'm not big on dream therapy, so I'm not sure what to make of this. Perhaps your subconscious feels the need to bring up these tragic memories that you've been trying to forget about over the years."

"Perhaps," Kurt shrugged. "But all I know is that it was scary. I had to watch my mother die again. I had to watch them pull the plug."

Dr. Palmer set her legal pad down. "How did your mother die, Kurt?"

Kurt closed his eyes. "Car crash," he muttered. "They brought her here, to Lima Mercy…she was unconscious, on life support, by the time we got here…I wound up wandering around, met my friend, Artie…he was here, too, because he was also in an accident…lost the use of his legs…"

"Forgive me for interrupting, but is Artie a good friend of yours? Just wondering."

"Yeah, I guess," Kurt said slowly, opening his eyes for a moment. He closed his eyes again. "Anyway, so I go back to the room…and my dad says I have to say goodbye to my mom…I was eight, I didn't really understand…"

The doctor nodded. "They pulled the plug. And how did you handle that, in that moment?"

"I flung myself across her body and sobbed," Kurt dredged up the painful memory. "She was my _mother_, and I had to say goodbye to her after only eight short years with her."

"That's understandable," Dr. Palmer told him. "It's hard, what you had to go through. My father died when I was twelve, so I can relate."

Kurt opened his eyes, blinking at her. "Really?"

"Really," she gave him a soft smile.

"That's when I started burning myself," Kurt said slowly. "It all started then."

"When was the first time, Kurt?"

"At her funeral. I was holding a candle for her—my grandmother made me—and I fumbled, because my hands were sweaty. I accidentally brushed my finger against the flames, and it felt…it felt _good_."

She picked up her pad again, making a note. "So it felt good and…?"

"And so I kept doing it. It concentrated the pain to something physical instead of mental or emotional. I could feel the pain on my finger or whatever, and it would take my mind off of the pain in my heart."

"Did anyone ever catch you doing this?"

"A few times," Kurt admitted. "But I was usually able to get away with it."

"Did you ever burn anything other than your fingers?"

"Well," Kurt began, "I started with my fingers. After a year or so, I started with the palms of my hands. Another year went by, I was about ten, and I started doing my arms instead. I mostly did my hands and arms until just a few months ago, when I burned my stomach."

"Why did you burn your stomach, Kurt?"

"Because I felt fat," he chuckled in spite of himself.

"But you're not fat," Dr. Palmer pointed out.

"But I felt it," Kurt smirked. "That was the only time I ever did my stomach, though."

The doctor nodded, scribbling this down. "Tell me more about that dream you had."

"I watched myself being raped," Kurt whispered, curling his legs underneath him. "I had to watch the whole thing happen, and I couldn't do anything about it."

"And how did that feel?"

"Terrible. I felt so bad for him…for myself, that is…and I couldn't do anything to help myself. That was the worst part. Not watching it, per se, but just knowing that I couldn't do anything to help."

"And this took place where?"

"The school locker room," Kurt whispered. "That was the first time it happened."

"You said you saw your friend die?"

"Not exactly," Kurt explained. "See, we had just finished a performance at a school assembly when the guidance counselor came in and told us that my best friend, Mercedes, had been in an accident. We all hurried over here…it was right down the hall from where my mother had died eight years ago…and she was in a coma. She died later that night. I saw a shooting star crash to Earth, and I just knew, you know?"

"I'm so sorry," Dr. Palmer said, putting her hand on Kurt's shoulder. "You really have been through a lot, haven't you?"

"Yeah," Kurt reached for a tissue and began shredding it.

"Do you want to talk about anything else?"

"Not really," Kurt shook his head. "I just wish I knew what was wrong with me."

"We'll work on it," the doctor reassured him. "I promise, we'll figure this out." He nodded his thanks and exited the room quietly.

"You okay?" Kurt turned to the right at the sound of a familiar voice.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said to Santana.

"Good. I'm glad."

"How are things with Tallulah?" He pushed her over to the chairs.

"I'm not sure," Santana said honestly. "But she's going to tell me today if she wants to, you know, date me."

"Interesting," Kurt said distractedly. "Well, good lu-"

"Santana, I have something to tell you," Tallulah walked up to them. "Well, I want to sing it…if that's okay." Santana nodded. "Okay, good," Tallulah said. "Here goes."

_Kiss the day goodbye  
><em>_The sweetness and the sorrow  
><em>_Wish me luck, the same to you  
><em>_But I can't regret  
><em>_What I did for love, what I did for love_

Kurt cocked his head. He was normally good at deciphering song lyrics and meanings, but he couldn't figure out this song choice. He did love A Chorus Line, and had the soundtrack on his Broadway-exclusive iPod, but he wasn't sure where Tallulah was going with this song. Still, he did wish her luck, and he nodded as she pointed to him as she sang "the same to you". He needed all the luck he could to hold on to the amazing thing that he had with Puck. Then again, he couldn't regret what he did for love.

_Look, my eyes are dry  
><em>_The gift was ours to borrow  
><em>_It's as if we always knew  
><em>_And I won't forget what I did for love  
><em>_What I did for love_

Santana looked at her love interest curiously. She, too, couldn't figure out what she meant by this song. She also wondered what Kurt had talked to the psychologist about. She was worried about Kurt. She was worried about so many things. She was worried about what would happen when she broke up with Sam, which she had been putting off. She was worried about what would happen if she were to be outed at school. And finally, she was worried that, should Tallulah turn her down, that she would never find love.

_Gone, love is never gone  
><em>_As we travel on  
><em>_Love's what we'll remember  
><em>_Kiss the day goodbye  
><em>_And point me toward tomorrow  
><em>_Oh, we did what we had to do_

Santana wished she could kiss the day goodbye. She wished she could just kiss each and every day that year goodbye. She wished someone could take her by the shoulders and point her towards tomorrow. She wished she had her own personal "Dear Abby" to point her towards the next day, which always seemed so far away to Santana. Stupid little orphan Annie, Santana thought. Tomorrow is not so great and easy to find. It's not as near and as close as you think.

_Once again, can't regret  
><em>_What I did for love  
><em>_What I did for love  
><em>_What I did for love_

Tallulah couldn't regret what she was doing for love. She was giving up everything she ever had and worked for for love. She loved Santana, and this was to let her know. This was for her, for them, for anyone who ever regretted what they did for love, and those who didn't regret it. She hoped that Santana wasn't going to regret this, because she knew she herself was not going to regret this. She hoped that Kurt wasn't going to regret what he did for love, and that his boyfriend wasn't going to regret it, either. Can't forget, won't regret…

_Love  
><em>_Love is never gone  
><em>_As we travel on  
><em>_Love's what we'll remember_

Kurt smiled. He hoped that this would all work out for his two dear friends. Thoughts of double-dates raced through his mind, as well as karaoke parties and sleepovers. He could see himself giving Tallulah a bit of a makeover, or perhaps at least getting her to wear a little makeup. He could see movie nights and theatre outings (if he could get Puck to a theatre, that is). He really, really wanted Santana to be happy, and would do whatever it took to get these two girls together.

_Kiss the day goodbye  
><em>_And point me toward tomorrow  
><em>_Oh, we did what we had to do  
><em>_Won't forget, can't regret  
><em>_What I did for love  
><em>_What I did for love  
><em>_What I did for love_

"My answer," Tallulah took a deep breath. "My answer is yes. I'm ready for this."

Santana cracked a smile so wide, Kurt thought her face would break in two. "You really mean it?" She asked breathlessly.

"Yes," Tallulah began to cry tears of happiness. "I love you, and I want to be with you."

"Oh, my God," Santana started to cry, too. "Oh my God. I love you, too."

"Kiss her," Kurt whispered to her excitedly, kicking his legs and squealing a little.

"Way ahead of you," Tallulah giggled, leaning down to kiss Santana full on the lips.

_They couldn't regret, wouldn't forget, what they did for love. _


	19. Lessons Learned

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or "Lessons Learned". **

**Note: They're heading out of rehab! Hooray! And this is by Carrie Underwood, by the way. I'm sorry if this chapter kind of sucks, but I have an AP exam tomorrow (Spanish V, eek), and I'm very stressed about it. Reviews do help. They really do.  
>Note 2: There WILL be more, even though they're out of the ward. I need to explore PuckKurt being together at McKinley, and Santana's coming out and whatnot. So fear not!**

"I can't believe we're leaving here," Kurt whispered, his head in Santana's lap. Santana stroked his hair gently.

"I know. Two months went by really fast, didn't they?"

"Mmm," Kurt moaned. "They really did."

"I can't wait to get these damn casts off," Santana remarked. "They told me I can get them off before we go today."

"That's great," Kurt said softly, closing his eyes as Santana massaged his temples.

"Sleeping with my girlfriend?" Tallulah joked, coming up and sitting next to them.

Kurt laughed. "Nah, just snuggling with her. I'll get up now if you want."

"No, it's okay," Tallulah smiled. "You know, you're a good kid, Kurt."

"I know," he said smugly. He sighed in content that his life was back on track.

"I'm glad our lives are back on track," Santana said, as if reading his mind.

Tallulah rested her chin on Santana's shoulder. "Can we sing just one more song before we leave here?"

"Only if Kurt can sing too," Santana said quietly.

"Yeah, of course," Tallulah quickly replied.

"I'm in," Kurt murmured. "And I have just the song to fit the occasion."

_There's some things that I regret  
>Some words I wish had gone unsaid<br>Some starts that had some bitter endings  
>Been some bad times I've been through<br>Damage I cannot undo  
>Some things I wish I could do all all over again<em>

Santana ran her hands through Kurt's hair, and Tallulah started braiding Santana's own hair meticulously. There were things that they all regretted. How could there not be things that they regretted? They wouldn't be leaving here if they didn't. There were words that Kurt wished he hadn't said. There were some starts that had some bitter endings, but there were some that had sweet endings, too. There was damage that Kurt couldn't undo, like being raped, and there were some moments that he wished he could do all over again. But what could he do? That was all in the past now.  
><em><br>But it don't really matter  
>Life gets that much harder<br>It makes you that much stronger  
>Oh, some pages turned<br>Some bridges burned  
>But there were<br>Lessons learned_

Santana leaned down and laid a kiss on Kurt's temple. She had burned so many bridges since she had gotten there. She had never, ever spoken about her sexual abuse with anyone, not even Brittany or her parents. It had been such a big release for her to talk about it for the first time in so many years. She was coming to terms with her sexuality, and she was finally finding a love that was true. She had turned a new page in her life's book, and she didn't want to look back on the old chapters of that book. There were lessons learned, and Santana would cherish them forever.  
><em><br>And every tear that had to fall from my eyes  
><em>_Every day I wondered how I'd get through the night  
><em>_Every change life has thrown me_

There had been many tears in the time that they were there. There were tears nearly every day, tears of happiness and tears of pain. There were tears of sorrow and tears of laughter. Before this, Kurt had wondered how he'd get through each night. He had wondered if he was even going to wake up the next day. But he'd embraced every change that life had thrown him in the end.  
><em><br>I'm thankful for every break in my heart  
>I'm grateful for every scar<br>Some pages turned  
>Some bridges burned<br>But there were lessons learned_

Santana snuck a peek at her arms. She saw all of the cuts on her arms, all of the scars that lay there. She gently moved Kurt's sleeve up and saw the scars that lay on his arms, too. She was grateful for every scar on both of their arms. She was thankful for all of the breaks in their hearts, knowing that they would just make them stronger. There weren't too many breaks, she thought, but just enough to make her thankful for the ones that were there. She traced Kurt's scars with the tip of her finger gently.  
><em><br>There's mistakes that I have made  
>Some chances I just threw away<br>Some roads I never should've taken  
>Been some signs I didn't see<br>Hearts that I hurt needlessly  
>Some wounds that I wish I could have one more chance to mend<em>

Kurt had almost thrown away so many chances. He had almost thrown away the chance at love with Puck. Of course, he was so glad that he hadn't. There were roads he shouldn't have taken, like the road down towards hell. He hadn't needlessly hurt any hearts…well, he supposed he had hurt his family and friends, but he hadn't meant to. He wished he could've had the chance to mend some of those wounds, but he couldn't, not just yet. He would apologize to them once he got home. He hoped the kids wouldn't be too mad at him for what he'd done to them.  
><em><br>But it don't make no difference  
>The past can't be rewritten<br>You get the life you're given  
>Oh, some pages turned<br>Some bridges burned  
>But there were<br>Lessons learned_

The past really couldn't be rewritten. Tallulah wished she could just take a big eraser and erase and rewrite her past. She wished she hadn't been given the life she had been given, yet it was the card that had been dealt to her. Now, she didn't want to rewrite anything. She wouldn't trade her life for anyone else's. She was in love, and she was happy. Sure, she had to go back to the shithole that was her life in a few hours, but she had Santana to help her get through this.  
><em><br>And every tear that had to fall from my eyes  
>Every day I wondered how I'd get through the night<br>Every change life has thrown me_

Santana wondered how she'd get through the night. She had laid awake so many nights in her bed, thinking about how she wanted to disappear into the nothingness and just die. She had laid awake at two in the morning, wondering how she'd make it to the morning. She knew that somewhere, Kurt was doing the same thing. It broke her heart to know that they'd be awake and wondering how they'd make it.  
><em><br>I'm thankful for every break in my heart  
>I'm grateful for every scar<br>Some pages turned  
>Some bridges burned<br>But there were lessons learned_

Kurt traced his own scars, the ones that Santana had just traced. These were just the ones that he could see. There were so many scars. Most of them were external, but a lot of them were on his heart. His mother had left scars, and Mercedes had left a few, too. But a good deal of those internal scars had come from Karofsky. Karofsky had scarred Kurt in ways that Kurt never thought imaginable. Yet, Kurt was grateful towards Karofsky. In a weird sort of way, Karofsky had brought Kurt and Puck together, and Kurt couldn't be more grateful to him.  
><em><br>And all the things that break you  
>Are all the things that make you strong<br>You can't change the past  
>Cause it's gone<br>And you just gotta move on  
>Because it's all<br>Lessons learned_

The things that broke them were the things that made them strong. They had all been abused in the worst ways possible, and it broke them to pieces. On the other hand, those things made them strong. They couldn't change the past; the past was over. They couldn't change those things, but they had to move on, because it was all that they could do. If there was one thing that they learned while they were there, it was that they had to just move on because it was just a lesson to be learned.  
><em><br>And every tear that had to fall from my eyes  
>Every day I wondered how I'd get through the night<br>Every change life has thrown me_

Tallulah had had so many tears fall from her eyes. She had cried almost every day that she had been there, most of them late at night when Santana couldn't hear her. Every tear had felt like a dagger to her heart. Every day while she was there, and even before she was there, she had wondered how she'd get through the night. She just wanted to die in her sleep, to go to bed and never get up.  
><em><br>I'm thankful for every break in my heart  
>I'm grateful for every scar<br>Some pages turned  
>Some bridges burned<br>But there were lessons learned  
>Oh, some pages turned<br>Some bridges burned  
>But there were lessons learned<br>Lessons learned_

"That was great," a familiar voice sounded from their left.

Kurt lifted his head from Santana's lap to look. "Finn!" He leapt up to hug him.

"So you're not mad at me?" Finn held his brother tightly.

"No," Kurt murmured. "I've learned to forgive and forget."

"I've missed you."

"Missed you too," Kurt whispered, tears in his eyes.

"Dad's filling out your paperwork," Finn said, pulling away slowly. "Let me look at you. Wow. You look great, Kurt. I can really see the change in you."

Kurt squirmed, wishing he could tell Finn about Puck. He didn't have to wonder if Finn knew, though. "I hear you're, um, dating," Finn said slowly.

Kurt furrowed his brows. "Where did you hear that from?"

"Puck told me that he's in love with you a few months ago. So I know."

"Oh," Kurt said quietly. "Do you approve of it?"

"Yeah, it's cool by me," Finn gave Kurt a pat on the back. "I'm just happy for you, man."

"God, man-child, shut up with the sappy-sappy already."

"Oh, hi, Santana," Finn shuffled his feet uncomfortably.

"Whatever, Finn," she leaned into her girlfriend.

Finn looked at her in confusion. "I'm not even going to ask."

"Good," Santana glared at him.

"Calm down, Santana," Kurt flicked his wrist at him.

"Are you ready? Dad's waiting for us," Finn said to Kurt.

"Sure," Kurt grabbed his bags. "I'll see you later," he kissed Santana's cheek. "And you," he said, kissing Tallulah quickly.

"'Bye, Kurt," they said in unison.

"Love you," Santana called after him as he walked out of the doors with his stepbrother.

Kurt looked at Finn happily. "I feel so free!" His happiness faded when he saw his dad standing in the waiting room for him.

"Kurt," he said slowly. "My son."

Kurt looked at him carefully. "Dad?"

"My son," Burt held his arms out. "My son."

Kurt ran into Burt's arms. "Dad…Dad, I've missed you so much."

"I've missed you, too, Kurt." Finn blinked the tears in his eyes away. He was afraid that Burt wouldn't accept Kurt now. But he knew that Burt had cried himself to sleep for a week after Kurt had checked-in. He was more than pleased at the results.

"Let's go home," he said quietly, hoping he wasn't ruining the father-son moment.

"Yes," Kurt sniffled. "Let's go home."

_There were lessons learned. For all of them. _


	20. Trainwreck

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or "Trainwreck".**

**Note: This is the PERFECT song for Puck to sing to Kurt upon his arrival back at McKinley. So thus, I have put it in here. And, of course, Glee is on tonight (at least, in America). Hooray for "Rumours" and the return of April Rhodes! This song is by Demi Lovato. Again, review. For more sexytime.**

**Note 2: So I sense some confusion from the last chapter? Obviously, it's not the end! Silly readers, I couldn't just end it like that! Don't worry, I have more for you.**

"Kurt?" Puck whispered from the end of the hallway.

"Puck!" Kurt ran down the hall as fast as his feet would take him. He tackled Puck into a monster hug, causing the taller boy to laugh. "I've missed you," Kurt murmured.

"I've missed you, too," Puck whispered, rubbing Kurt's back. He put his arm around Kurt and led him down the hall. "I'm so glad you're back. Glee hasn't been the same without you."

"How do you mean?" Kurt wiggled excitedly at the prospect of being back.

"Rachel's been like…_nice_," Puck whispered reverently.

"…am I in the Twilight Zone?" Kurt joked. "Because a Nice Rachel is like a Smart Brittany, or Finn being good at dancing, or Tina wearing pink."

Puck laughed. "No, you're not in the Twilight Zone. I don't know, man, but Rachel's been nice. And let me tell you, that's a good thing, because I was so close to shoving a sock in her mouth."

Kurt giggled and sighed contentedly. "I love you."

Puck groaned. "Kurt, I don't know about this."

Kurt looked confused. "Don't know about what?"

Puck looked around to make sure no one was listening. "Being out at school."

"Oh," Kurt's face fell. "Well, I understand that. It takes a lot of strength, you know. If you're not ready, then you're not ready. But you can at least tell ND."

"If I tell ND, Rachel will have spread it to the entire city of Lima by the end of the day."

Kurt shrugged. "You said she was nicer now. And who knows? Maybe they'll keep this among us. And if they don't, well, I'll kick their asses."

Puck let out a snort. "Sweetie, I can't picture you kicking anyone's ass."

Kurt flipped his silver scarf. "Well, I'll kick their asses in my mind."

Puck gave him a noogie. "That's my man." He gave Kurt's shoulder a quick squeeze. "Come on, let's go see the family."

"My family," Kurt breathed. He'd missed them so, so much since he'd been gone. He knew Santana wouldn't be back for a few days, as she was still resting her injuries, but he couldn't wait to see Tina and Brittany, his "Single Ladies", again.

Puck motioned for Kurt to wait before he entered the room. "Ladies and gentlemen…and Mr. Schue…I present to you, Kurt Hummel!"

Kurt skipped into the room, taking a small curtsy.

"Kurt, so glad to have you back," Mr. Schue smiled at him. The rest of the kids surrounded him in a group hug.

"So glad to _be_ back," Kurt grinned.

"Kurt, you sit down right there," Puck gestured to a chair that he'd decorated specially for Kurt's return. "I have a little surprise for you."

"For me?" Kurt blushed. "Aw, but you shouldn't have!"

"But I did," Puck said softly. "And I think you'll like this. Hit it!" The band started playing an upbeat tune, and Kurt settled into his special chair.

_You fled from medication 'cause it only causes pain  
>Y<em>_ou won't go to the doctor who keeps calling you insane  
><em>_You're lost even when you're going the right way  
><em>_You mean the world to me even though you might be crazy_

Kurt blushed a deep red. It was true that he was lost even when he was going the right way. It seemed that whenever everyone else was going left, Kurt was going right. If they were going up, he was going down. For eight years, Kurt had run away from the medications that could have saved him. They would've only caused more pain, he had always thought, although he knew that now to be untrue. But no matter what, he still meant the world to Puck, even though Kurt might've been a little bit crazy in the head.

_And you said we wouldn't make it  
><em>_But look how far we've come  
><em>_For so long my heart was breaking  
><em>_And now we're standing strong_

Kurt looked down shyly, and then looked back up at Puck, who was standing above him, singing right to him. Puck smiled, loving whenever he could make Kurt act shy. Kurt had always said they wouldn't make it. Hell, he hadn't even expected them to be together in the first place. But still, they had come so far, even if Kurt wouldn't allow Puck to French-kiss him. Kurt still allowed someone to actually kiss him, and it had felt right. Both of their hearts had been breaking, because they had never found the right person. And now, they were standing stronger than ever.

_The things you say  
><em>_You make me fall harder each day  
><em>_You're a trainwreck  
><em>_But I wouldn't love you if you changed_

Kurt was a trainwreck, it was true. Just in the last half-year, Kurt had driven himself off the tracks into absolute madness and insanity. He had not only wrecked himself, but those around him. And still, Puck couldn't help but to fall for Kurt a little bit more with each passing day. Just the cute things that Kurt would say, or the way that Kurt would look at him…no girl that Puck had ever been with had looked at him that way before. And Puck? He wouldn't love Kurt if he were any difference. He loved the trainwreck that was Kurt Elizabeth Hummel.

_I shook your hand and you pulled it right away  
><em>_You asked me to dance and instead I said, "no way"  
><em>_Inside I was dying to try, and you begged me, so I stayed  
><em>_I knew you were different from the way I caved_

It had happened before. It was at their spring dance. Kurt had asked Puck if he wanted to dance with him, just for fun (and on a slight dare from Mercedes). And Puck, being Puck (and thinking that he was straight), had said no. Kurt had been crushed, and spent the rest of the night feeling sorry for himself. Lest Puck admit it, he was dying to dance with Kurt on the inside. He had almost caved, and he knew, that in that moment, Kurt was different, very different. He made a vow right then and there to take Kurt to Prom and dance each and every dance with him, just to make up for that night that he said "no".

_And you said we wouldn't make it  
><em>_But look how far we've come  
><em>_For so long my heart was breaking  
><em>_And now we're standing strong_

Quinn looked at Puck strangely. She knew her baby's daddy, or so she thought. She knew he could be a bit promiscuous, and had slept with many girls (including her best friends, Brittany and Santana). But at the same time, she didn't know him to be this nice towards Kurt. It was then that she caught at glimpse at the way that Puck and Kurt were looking at each other, and she knew. "Oh my God, they're in love," she said under her breath. "Oh…my God." Puck was gay? And was in love with KURT?

_The things you say  
><em>_You make me fall harder each day  
><em>_You're a trainwreck  
><em>_But I wouldn't love you if you changed_

Finn kicked back in his chair and smiled to himself. My best friend and my stepbrother, he thought amusedly. He'd never thought it possible, but he was happy for them. When Kurt had been in the hospital, Finn had never been more scared. He'd always wanted a brother, and when he finally did get a brother, he treated him like shit. But just a couple of months, and Finn had a brand-new stepbrother, one with a spring in his step and a smile blazed across his face like the rising sun.

_We were so different, but opposites attract  
><em>_So my hope kept growing, and I never looked back  
><em>_You're one of a kind  
><em>_And no one can change this heart of mine_

Kurt blushed again as Puck reached for his hand as he sang that last line. It was right to say that they were complete opposites. Puck was into football and sports, while Kurt was into fashion and Broadway. The two wouldn't ordinarily mix, especially not at school, where the jocks normally looked down upon the thespians. But somehow, the opposite ends of the pole had attracted. Kurt was unique, Puck thought happily. And I couldn't be prouder than to call him mine.

_And you said we wouldn't make it  
><em>_But look how far we've come  
><em>_For so long my heart was breaking  
><em>_And now we're standing strong_

Mr. Schuester looked at them inquisitively. Nah, he thought. It couldn't be. Puck and Kurt? Saying that they had feelings—and pretty strong feelings, from what Mr. Schue could see—was like saying that oil and water were compatible. No, not even that; it was like saying that Rachel wasn't destined for Broadway. But still, Mr. Schue couldn't deny the chemistry that was between them. It was like two sparks, hot and white, ready to catch on fire and explode into the black night.

_The things you say  
><em>_You make me fall harder each day  
><em>_You're a trainwreck  
><em>_But I wouldn't love you if you changed_

Kurt wouldn't love Puck if he changed, either. He did like the small changes, such as the niceness towards him and whatnot. But he wouldn't love Puck if he'd suddenly turned into a flamboyant gay, like Blaine, or if he'd changed his attitude to be more "like Kurt". Kurt loved Puck just the way he was; rough around the edges, but smooth and sweet in the middle. Puck was a diamond in the rough, and Kurt felt like the luckiest gay in the world to have managed to catch such a gem.

_One more thing I thought I'd share with someone special  
><em>_I'm falling like I never fell before  
><em>_It's funny, you said we'd never make it, and look how far we've come  
><em>_You're a trainwreck, but with you  
><em>_I'm in love_

Puck kissed Kurt gently on the cheek, causing Kurt to turn even redder than he already was. The rest of the room fell silent.

"Puck and Kurt?" Tina whispered.

Puck sighed. "Yes, me and Kurt." He ran his hand over his beloved Mohawk. "I've, uh, I've had feelings for Kurt for awhile now, and we recently got together. I'm, um…I'm gay." He scanned their faces, vowing to beat up anyone who dared to disapprove of this.

"I'm happy for you two," Finn said almost immediately. "And you two dudes have my approval. My best friend-stepbrother-official-Finn-Hudson approval."

"Thanks, man," Puck said quietly. He glared at the rest of them. "And you?"

"I think it's adorable," Tina gushed. "And it's about time that Kurt got a boyfriend."

Kurt was scarlet by now. "Tina!" he squeaked.

"What?" She rolled her eyes a little. "I love it, Kurt. Congratulations."

"I had a baby with a gay boy?" Quinn's eyes widened a little.

"Do you have a problem with that?" Finn whirled around. "Because if you do…"

"Whatever," Quinn stomped out of the room.

"Wow," Artie smirked. "Usually it's Rachel that has the hissy fits. No offense, Rachel."

"None taken," Rachel smiled. Wow, Kurt thought. She really _has_ changed. "Anyway, I think it's super-cute, and I vote we give them the couple name of Purt, or perhaps PucKurt."

"Either one is fine with us," Puck smiled, nuzzling his nose against Kurt's neck, causing Kurt to shiver slightly.

"I like Purt," Kurt whispered.

"Purt it is," Finn declared. "To Purt!"

"To Purt," they all said in unison. Kurt giggled, and Puck pressed a chaste kiss to Kurt's neck. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Kurt whispered back, turning his head to lay a soft kiss on Puck's lips to a chorus of awws from the glee kids.

_Kurt was a trainwreck, but with him, Puck was in love. _


	21. As Long As You're Mine

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or As Long As You're Mine.**

**Note: I just had to, folks. And not just because it's one of Chris Colfer's all-time favorite love songs. But because it truly does work. If you don't know what musical this is from, shame upon you! (Hint: It's one of Kurt's favorites!) Oh, and do review. (What did we think of "Rumours"? Sam's siblings were totally cute, right?)**

"Our first date," Kurt smiled up at Puck as he slipped his hand into Puck's.

"Yeah," Puck smiled back. "I can't wait. Are you sure your dad won't mind if we crash in your basement?"

"Nope," Kurt shook his head. "Besides, he knows that we're together."

Puck froze. "Your dad knows? Is he cool with it?"

"Yeah," Kurt sighed. "I practically had to sign a contract saying that I won't have sex until I'm thirty, though."

Puck guffawed. "At least he's cool with it. My old man would freak."

"Do you need help telling him?"

Puck smiled sadly. "I'm not ready for that yet. I'm not for sneaking around, but I'm also not ready to tell him. Telling the glee kids was enough."

"Well, when you're ready, I'll go with you, if you want."

"Thanks, babe. Your house at eight?"

"Yes, sir," Kurt giggled.

"I love when you talk to me like that," Puck grinned wickedly, cupping Kurt's chin in his hands. "And I love kissing you like this," he gently kissed Kurt's lips.

"Get a room," Tina teased them as she passed them in the hallway.

"Oh, go make out with Mike," Kurt retorted.

"I also love your sassiness," Puck traced Kurt's cheek with his finger.

"What about my sassy hats?" Kurt reached up to adjust his hat of the day.

"Adorable," Puck declared.

Kurt blushed. "I'll see you at eight," he whispered, turning away from Puck and strutting down the hall, waggling his hips slightly and driving Puck wild.

_Ding-dong!_

Kurt flung the door open. "Puckie!"

"Don't call me that," Puck groaned. "Please, if you have to, call me Noah."

"Noah," Kurt said softly. It was like a sigh on the breeze.

"Better," Puck whispered, moving past Kurt and into the foyer.

"Dad, Puck's here, going to the basement, leaving the door open a crack, okay, love you, bye!" Kurt said all in one breath.

"Damn, how do you have the lungpower for that?" Puck asked incredulously.

"It's my fourth special gift," Kurt winked.

"Do you have any more gifts?" Puck teased.

"Maybe," Kurt said flirtatiously. He took Puck's hand and led him down to his basement hangout.

"Nice place you got down here," Puck commented, surveying the room.

"Thanks," Kurt said, turning down the dimmer switch to create ambience. "Romantic," he purred, wishing he had a rose so stick between his teeth.

"Sweet," Puck nodded his approval.

"Oh, do you want to sit down on the couch?" Kurt gestured grandly to his white leather loveseat.

"As long as I can cuddle with you, of course I do." Kurt giggled and sat down, smoothing his pants as he did so. He picked up a remote and turned on the stereo, which he'd set to play his "Romantic Tunes" playlist.

"This one's for you," Kurt blushed, singing along to the familiar song.  
><em><br>Kiss me too fiercely  
>Hold me too tight<br>I need help believing  
>You're with me tonight<br>_  
>Kurt wanted to kiss Puck and to never stop. He wanted to vanish inside of Puck's lips, to kiss Puck fiercely and steadfastly and to never let go. He wanted to hold Puck, or even better, to have Puck hold him in those big arms of his that Kurt had been drooling over since Freshman year. He wanted to pinch himself, knowing that this was all just a dream. He knew he was just going to wake up soon, finding out that these past few months had been some sort of weird dream. He couldn't believe that Puck was with him tonight, right next to him, gazing at him as if he'd never see him again.<br>_  
>My wildest dreams<br>Could not foresee  
>Lying beside you<br>With you wanting me_

So perhaps Puck wasn't lying beside Kurt, but he was sitting mere inches away from him, his hand resting tenderly on Kurt's knee. Kurt had had some wild dreams before (some that he did not want to share, such as the explicit ones), but none of them had ever felt as good as this. He would have never guessed in a million years that Puck would actually love him back, that he would be here, right now, in Kurt's basement as more-than-friends. Kurt knew this was love because reality was finally better than his dreams.  
><em><br>Just for this moment  
>As long as you're mine<br>I've lost all resistance  
>And crossed some borderline<br>_  
>Kurt had crossed the biggest borderline of all. He had crossed the borderline between hurt and love. He had gone from hating himself and loving Puck to loving himself<em> and<em> loving Puck. He had gone from self-hurt to self-love (not in that way, he thought quickly to himself), and that was the biggest borderline of all. He had put up great resistance, but Puck had broken his walls down and left them there. As long as Puck was his, Kurt would continue this journey across the borderline.  
><em><br>And if it turns out  
>It's over too fast<br>I'll make ev'ry last moment last  
>As long as you're mine...<em>

Kurt vowed a solemn vow that he would make every last moment last. He wouldn't just let this relationship pass him over like a cloud in the sky. He couldn't just let this fly by, especially if it was, in fact, over too fast. Kurt prayed to the Armani gods that it wouldn't be over too fast. He'd come too far to let this go right now. As long as Puck was his, he'd make every second, moment, minute, hour, day last. He'd save all of these memories, even the smallest ones, in the back of his mind, for, in case he was sad and alone one day, he could take them out and look at them fondly.  
><em><br>Maybe I'm brainless  
>Maybe I'm wise<br>But you've got me seeing  
>Through different eyes<em>

It was true, Puck wasn't the smartest boy around. Sometimes, he could be considered a downright idiot. At the same time, he was the wisest person that Kurt knew. Kurt loved the dumb-smart thing that Puck gave him. Puck couldn't help but to stare at Kurt in wonder. Kurt had him seeing through a completely new set of eyes. Before, Puck had seen everything as glass-half-empty. Now he looked at them as glass-half-full. He had a new sense of appreciation for the little things, and he had a new meaning for the word "love". He didn't know how Kurt had done it, but he'd changed his outlook on life.  
><em><br>Somehow I've fallen  
>Under your spell<br>And somehow I'm feeling  
>It's 'up' that I fell...<em>

Kurt blushed as Puck sang softly to him. Puck brushed his knuckles against Kurt's cheek. He had fallen, and he had fallen hard. What was it about Kurt Hummel that just fascinated Puck so? It must have been the spell that Kurt had put under him as his back was turned. It must have been some sort of enchantment, perhaps magic. Whatever it was, Puck didn't care. He was glad that he had fallen under the brunette soprano's spell. He hadn't fallen down, but rather, he'd fallen up, and feeling no sky or floor beneath him, he'd kept falling and falling.

_Every moment  
>As long as you're mine<br>I'll wake up my body  
>And make up for lost time<em>

There had been so much lost time. Kurt had lost precious time in his self-hatred and in his delusion. He had had a love-hate relationship with Puck that was so fast, it made even Kurt's head spin. One moment, he loved Puck, and as quick as a wink, he hated him again. It was as if a switch in Kurt's brain was flipping on and off rapidly between love and hate, never resting in-between or stopping at all. Kurt had been in denial not only that he was in love with Puck, but that Puck was in love with Kurt. The clues had been there all along, Kurt could see now. If only I'd seen them before, he thought.  
><em><br>Say there's no future  
>For us as a pair<br>And though I may know  
>I don't care<br>_  
>Was there a future for the two of them? Neither one of them was really sure. They could easily break up next week, or they could break up in a year or so. And who knew? Puck and Kurt could be together forever, if the fates had their way. They both knew the risks of this relationship, knew all of its benefits and consequences, but they didn't care. They didn't care about all of that right now. They just wanted right here, right now. They just wanted to be together, and not think about the future.<p>

_Just for this moment  
>As long as you're mine<br>Come be how you want to  
>And see how bright we shine<em>

Puck pulled Kurt towards him slowly, wrapping his arms around the slender boy's body. Kurt's breath hitched, but he soon relaxed. Puck's arms were just so big, and Kurt just felt so safe within them. He carefully brought his arms up so that they were encompassing Puck's solid build. He locked eyes with the tenor, gazing into them longingly and lovingly. Puck, in turn, looked into Kurt's haunting grey-blue eyes, feeling himself getting lost in them, fearful that he'd never find his way out.

_Borrow the moonlight  
>Until it is through<br>And know I'll be here holding you  
>As long as you're mine<em>

Puck leaned in and kissed Kurt. "Mmm," Kurt moaned softly. Puck kissed Kurt again hurriedly, as if he was running out of time. He couldn't take it anymore, and his hormones took over. He wiggled his tongue into Kurt's mouth. Kurt pulled away immediately, putting his hand over his mouth, horrified.

"Shit, Kurt, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, I don't-"

Kurt got off of the loveseat as if it were on fire, retreating to the corner of the room. He slid down to the floor, shaking. The last tongue that had been in his mouth was Karofsky's, and Kurt had hated it, hated it so much and didn't want to ever kiss like that again. He'd _told_ Puck that he wasn't ready for this, and Puck had done it anyway. Kurt began to sob openly, his hands trembling. Puck slid down next to him. "I'm so sorry, baby," he put his arms around Kurt. "I couldn't control myself. I just…I love you so much, and I want to show you what love really is. I want to show you how good love can feel, how awesome the physical stuff can be."

Kurt sniffled. "I'm not _ready_ for that, Noah!"

"And I shouldn't have forced that upon you so early," Puck whispered soothingly. "And I won't do it again."

Kurt looked up at him. "You swear?"

Puck held up his hand. "I swear."

"Mmkay," Kurt shrugged. "I guess…I guess we can try in…in a month?"

"Deal," Puck smiled, kissing the top of Kurt's head.

"I do love you," Kurt said softly. "But I don't think I'm ready for that stuff yet."

"Baby steps," Puck took Kurt's hand. "We'll take baby steps."

"I love you," Kurt said again, kissing Puck's cheek and leaving a trail of salty tears there.

"And I love you," Puck kissed Kurt's forehead. "For as long as you're mine."

_Every moment, as long as you're mine…_


	22. Enchanted

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or Enchanted.**

**Note: Okay, so back to Santana! I think two chapters without her is enough. Anyway, thanks for all the positive reviews on the last chapter! I'm watching season 1 on Netflix Instant Watch, so I'm getting ideas for this. For this story, imagine season 1 Kurt, if you will (complete with bangs and all!) and season 2 Puck. **

"So this is McKinley?" Tallulah whispered.

"Yeah," Santana adjusted her skirt. "It's not much, but it's home, I guess."

Tallulah looked around. "It's big," she said in awe. "And colorful."

"You could always transfer here," Santana slipped her hand into her girlfriend's.

"I couldn't," Tallulah let her hair cover her face. "My parents wouldn't let me."

"Oh. Well, at least you can see it." Santana led Tallulah down the familiar path to the choir room. "This is where the magic happens." She walked into the choir room, bringing Tallulah in behind her. "It isn't much, but…this is where we all became a family."

"It's wonderful," Tallulah breathed.

Santana giggled. "That, over there? That's the chair I usually sit in. And that's our trophy from Regionals last year."

"What's that?" Tallulah pointed to a memorial that had been set up.

"That's for Mercedes," Santana said quietly. "She was one of us…Kurt's best friend…she died six months ago."

Tallulah looked at the picture of Mercedes that they'd included. It was one of her with her arms around Kurt in a giant bear hug. They both wore smiles a mile wide, and they both had a glow about them. "She's beautiful," Tallulah said slowly.

"You should've heard her voice," Santana half-laughed. "I miss her. We didn't always get along, but when we sang together…ah, man, our voices went together real good."

"Kind of like ours?" Tallulah asked shyly.

"Yes, like ours," Santana nuzzled her nose against Tallulah's. She grabbed her hand again. "Come on. Let's sing."

"Right here?" Tallulah's eyes widened.

"Everyone's gone home. Don't worry, you'll be fine."

_There I was again tonight  
>Forcing laughter, faking smiles<br>Same old tired, lonely place_

Santana was always faking smiles. She had been faking smiles for so many years, that she had almost forgotten what a real smile looked like upon her face. She forced a laugh, faked a smile, and prayed that they all believed her. It was always the same places that she would do this; school, home, church…and it was always a tired place, a lonely place. Santana hated seeing the same places again and again. She wanted a changed of scenery, but as long as she was stuck in Lima, Ohio, she'd have to deal with it.  
><em><br>Walls of insincerity  
>Shifting eyes and vacancy<br>Vanished when I saw your face  
>All I can say is it was enchanting to meet you<em>

So perhaps they hadn't quite vanished as soon as she'd seen Tallulah. The first time she'd ever seen Tallulah, she'd been shaking and sweating in a chair in the waiting room at Lima Mercy. Her hair had been all matted, and her face chalk-white. But now, whenever Santana looked upon her lady-love, those walls of insincerity and insecurity melted away. She could just be herself, and know that Tallulah wouldn't care. Whenever she looked into someone else's eyes, it was always a vacant expression looking back at her. But that was all gone now.

_Your eyes whispered "Have we met?"  
>Across the room your silhouette<br>Starts to make its way to me_

Of course this didn't really happen. It took weeks before Tallulah would even look anyone in the eye, let alone Santana. But still, they couldn't deny that there was some sort of instant chemistry when they'd first met. Santana couldn't help but to think that, had Kurt not shown up and startled her, would Tallulah have talked to her sooner? She had looked as if she were about to say something…what had she been about to say? Santana probably would never know, but it didn't bother her.  
><em><br>The playful conversation starts  
>Counter all your quick remarks<br>Like passing notes in secrecy  
>And it was enchanting to meet you<br>All I can say is I was enchanted to meet you_

Santana was very enchanted to meet Tallulah. There was something about the mute, fearful girl that had sparked Santana's curiosity. Perhaps it was that Tallulah was so unlike Brittany. She was a different type of beautiful that Brittany was, and certainly was more introverted. Still, Santana couldn't deny that she was drawn to this girl like a moth to a flame, and the more she saw Tallulah, the more she wanted to know about her.  
><em><br>This night is sparkling, don't you let it go  
>I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home<br>I'll spend forever wondering if you knew  
>I was enchanted to meet you<em>

Tallulah blushed. She, too, had been enchanted to meet Santana. Her gaydar had gone off as soon as she'd walked into that room back at Lima Mercy, and she couldn't help but to wonder if she could possibly have a chance with this girl. Santana's obvious beauty had stood out to Tallulah, but at the same time, Santana had seemed so…normal. She couldn't quite figure out what a girl like Santana Lopez would be doing at the psych ward anywhere, let alone in Lima. Still, she had been drawn into Santana mysteriously.  
><em><br>The lingering question kept me up  
>2 A.M., who do you love?<br>I wonder 'til I'm wide awake_

Tallulah had wondered who Santana loved for quite a time. She knew, just knew, that Santana was a lesbian, or at the very least, bisexual. But still, she couldn't shake the feeling that Santana had a girlfriend, or that she was in love with someone. She would lie awake at night, thinking about it, stealing glances over at Santana in the next bed. Her hopes built up as visiting hours came around, and no girlfriend was ever mentioned or seen. After she saw Brittany come to visit, she felt all of her hopes be dashed to pieces.  
><em><br>And now I'm pacing back and forth  
>Wishing you were at my door<br>I'd open up and you would say  
>"It was enchanting to meet you<br>All I know is I was enchanted to meet you"_

Mr. Schuester was in his office, grading papers. He didn't want to return to his cold, lonely apartment. All of the kids and teachers had gone home, and it was just him left. He heard the strains of someone singing, but couldn't place the voice. Curiosity led him to get up from his desk and walk down the hall to the choir room. He peeked in the door and saw Santana standing in there, looking at an unfamiliar girl and smiling. He wondered who this mystery girl was, and what she was doing singing in their choir room with Santana. Yet he couldn't help but to notice that this girl had an incredible, raspy voice.  
><em><br>This night is sparkling, don't you let it go  
>I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home<br>I'll spend forever wondering if you knew  
><em>_This night is flawless, don't you let it go  
>I'm wonderstruck, dancing around all alone<br>I'll spend forever wondering if you knew  
>I was enchanted to meet you<em>

"Mr. Schuester?"

Will jumped. "Kurt, you scared me!"

"Sorry," Kurt looked embarrassed. "I forgot my jacket, and I…wait, why are you standing outside the choir room door?" He looked in inquisitively. "Oh, wow."

Mr. Schue noticed Kurt's casual tone. "Do you know who that is?"

"Yeah, that's Santana's new girlfriend, Tallulah. She goes to some other school around here, I think. I don't know. She doesn't talk to me much."

"How do you know her? How does Santana know her?"

"We met at Lima Mercy, up on the ward. She, uh, she doesn't like guys much. And not just, you know, in a romantic way, but in general."

"Ah," Mr. Schue directed his attention back on the girls. "And she's Santana's girlfriend?"  
><em><br>This is me praying that  
>This was the very first page<br>Not where the story line ends  
>My thoughts will echo your name<br>Until I see you again_

Tallulah looked up shyly at Santana. Her thoughts were always echoing Santana's name. Whenever they were apart, her mind ran with the song of Santana. It kept playing until she finally saw Santana again. She hoped that it would always play this song. She hoped that this wasn't where the story would end. It couldn't be, she thought, it just couldn't be. This was a new page in her life, the first page in the new book of her life. The story couldn't just end after the first page.

_These are the words I held back  
>As I was leaving too soon<br>"I was enchanted to meet you"_

"Yeah," Kurt said slowly. "She's with Santana."

"So Santana's…?"

"Totally gay," Kurt adjusted his bag. "But not out of the closet."

"How is she dealing with that?"

Kurt shrugged. "She's dealing. She knows I'm always there for advice other than fashion." He sighed. "Please don't tell her I told you about her. I don't think she's ready for anyone to know."

"Secret's safe with me," Schue said. He paused. "Tallulah has a really nice voice."

Kurt chuckled. "She's not trained, but yes, she's very good."

"I wonder…"

_Please don't be in love with someone else  
>Please don't have somebody waiting on you<br>Please don't be in love with someone else  
>Please don't have somebody waiting on you<em>

Santana looked at Tallulah with all the care in the world. "I'm not," her eyes flashed. A couple of months ago, she would've hung her head. She would have been in love with someone else. But that person wasn't waiting on her. Santana was waiting on Brittany, hoping that Brittany would wake up and see that Santana was right there next to her all along. But that had never happened, and Brittany was still with Artie, while Santana was here with Tallulah. Two months can change a lot, Santana thought profoundly.  
><em><br>This night is sparkling, don't you let it go  
>I'm wonder-struck, blushing all the way home<br>I'll spend forever wondering if you knew  
><em>_This night is flawless, don't you let it go  
>I'm wonder-struck, dancing around all alone<br>I'll spend forever wondering if you know  
>I was enchanted to meet you<em>

"Kurt? Can I ask you something?"

Kurt tore his eyes away from the scene before him. "Yeah?"

"Does your dad know…about you and Puck?"

"Yeah," Kurt nodded. "He knows."

"And he's okay with it? After all, Puck did get a girl pregnant."

Kurt stared at Mr. Schue for a good minute. "I can't get pregnant…"

"He went to juvie for stealing an ATM."

Kurt shrugged. "Puck's best friends with Finn. And Finn's my stepbrother. So if Carole trusts Puck, Burt does."

Mr. Schue sighed. "Just…be careful, Kurt."

Kurt frowned. "Why?"

"I'm afraid you'll get hurt. You know Puck's been known to be a player, Kurt."

"Puck loves me," Kurt held his head high. "And I trust him. And I love him."  
><em><br>Please don't be in love with someone else  
>Please don't have somebody waiting on you<em>

Kurt waited a moment before opening the door slowly and poking his head in. "Sorry if I'm interrupting, ladies…"

Santana cocked her head curiously. "Kurt? What are you doing here?"

"Forgot my jacket," Kurt quickly crossed the room to where it was lying on a shelf. "And now I'll get out of your way." He turned to go back out of the door.

"Santana, it's so good to see you!" Mr. Schuester walked in, hugging Santana carefully. "When will you be joining us again?"

"Tomorrow," Santana confirmed. "Tallulah, this is Mr. Schuester, our glee director."

"Nice to meet you," Mr. Schuester kept his distance, keeping in mind what Kurt had said about Tallulah not liking men.

"You, too," Tallulah whispered politely, hiding behind Santana.

"You have an amazing voice," Will said gently. "Really, very good."

"Thanks," Tallulah mumbled. "I used to be in choir."

"Well, it shows. It was nice to meet you. Santana, we look forward to seeing you tomorrow. Welcome back." He patted her on the shoulder and left.

"You two are so cute," Kurt grinned, kissing Santana on the cheek and winking.

"I was enchanted to meet you," Santana said softly as soon as she was sure they were alone again.

"Me, too," Tallulah whispered. "Me, too".

_Please don't be in love with someone else…_


	23. Sparks Fly

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or Sparks Fly.**

**Note: Another perfect Purt song, no? I was going to originally use it with Santana and Tallulah, but I swapped it for Enchanted after re-reading the lyrics. And it's officially thirty days to Glee Live! So excited. Like...wow. Also, this may just be the penultimate chapter. Or second-to-last. I know what song I want to do for the last chapter, but I'm stuck with what else I can do. I may just do what I did last time, and have a no-song chapter. Anyway, enjoy this one! **

"I wish I could hold hands with you in the hall, Noah."

"I do, too. Really, Kurt, I do. But I don't want Karofsky and those goons beating the crap out of me like they did to you. And even more importantly, I don't want them to go after you." Puck nuzzled his cheek against Kurt's.

Kurt looked down at his shoes. "I wish you had the courage. Wait—that's it!"

"What's it?" Puck looked adorably confused.

"Courage. You need courage!" Puck stared back at Kurt blankly, and Kurt rolled his eyes. "When Karofsky was beating me up before—well, before I went to Dalton—Blaine told me I needed courage. He'd like, text me 'courage' and tell me to confront my problems." He sighed. "Of course, we all know how _that_ worked out." He turned his head to face Puck. "You need courage, Noah. Maybe you could talk to Blaine, if you want."

"Isn't he your Gargler friend?"

"Warbler," Kurt corrected him. "And yes, he is. But he'd be willing to talk to you, I just know he would."

Puck sighed. "I don't know, man. But I do know that if those goons come around again and try to start crap with you, I'm gonna-"

"Gonna what?"

Kurt whipped around. "Oh, God…"

"Nice to see you back, fairy boy. And you, Puckerman. Are you a fairy now, too?"

Kurt slunk down to the floor. "Oh, God," he muttered. Despite his speech about courage to Puck, he had forgotten all about his own courage. He hadn't expected to deal with this so soon, and he wasn't ready for it.

"Leave him alone," Puck growled.

"Defending him, are we? I knew it, you're a homo, too," Karofsky sneered.

Puck shoved Karofsky against the locker and pinned him there. "Leave…him…alone…" he said in a low, scary voice.

Karofsky held up his hands. "Fine, fine, I'll leave fairy queen alone…for now." Puck let him go, and, with a final leering glance, Karofsky went down the hall, leaving them alone.

"God, Kurt, I'm so sorry," Puck slid down to sit next to his boyfriend. "But you see? That's why I can't be out here." He slid his arm around Kurt. "I hate to see him be like this to you. I hate to see you react like this. It kills me inside to see you so vulnerable like this. But know this, Kurt, as long as you have me around, he can't hurt you."

"R-r-really?" Kurt sniffled. "T-t-thanks."

"Anything for you," Puck squeezed Kurt gently. "Now, come on. We'll be late for glee."

Kurt stood up and brushed the imaginary dust off of his shirt. "Come on, you look fine," Puck teased.

"I know. But you can never be too careful. Besides, this is Armani."

Puck rolled his eyes. "Whatever." Kurt laughed and allowed Puck to lead him down the hall to the choir room.

Mr. Schue strolled in. "I think we'd all like to extend a warm welcome back to Miss Santana Lopez!"

Santana blushed, and they all applauded. "I'm glad to be back," she said quietly.

"Glad to have you back," Mr. Schuester smiled. "Anyway, I think we'll all get back in the swing of things now. Maybe Kurt or Santana would like to sing something?"

"I would," Kurt raised his hand.

"Kurt, great! Come on up."

Kurt stood up and bowed his head demurely. "I'd like to dedicate this to my…my boyfriend." He looked up past his bangs and smiled at Puck.

_The way you move is like a full-on rainstorm  
>And I'm a house of cards<br>You're the kind of reckless  
>That should send me runnin'<br>But I kinda know that I won't get far_

Kurt often felt like a house of cards around Puck. He felt like one touch, one sudden movement, and he could fall over. Puck was reckless, so very reckless, and Kurt knew that he should just run while he could. After all, Puck had knocked up a girl at the age of sixteen and had been to a juvenile detention center. Puck was a player, or at least, had been. Kurt knew that he should just run, run away, and not look back. But he couldn't move his feet to do so. He knew that he wouldn't get very far away before Puck just pulled him in again for another sweet kiss.

_And you stood there in front of me  
>Just close enough to touch<br>Close enough to hope you couldn't see  
>What I was thinking of<em>

Kurt had hoped for years that Puck couldn't see his innermost thoughts. Not that all of those thoughts were dirty, per se. In fact, most of them just involved some steamy kisses, perhaps a little shirtless kissing. But Kurt prayed and hoped that Puck wouldn't and couldn't see what he was thinking of. Sometimes, Kurt had been around the corner, and Puck had been close enough to touch, but he didn't dare to put his hand out. And sometimes, in glee, it was so easy just to reach out and touch Puck, but Kurt didn't dare allow his hands to wander.  
><em><br>Drop everything now  
>Meet me in the pouring rain<br>Kiss me on the sidewalk  
>Take away the pain<br>'cause I see sparks fly whenever you smile_

Ever since Kurt had first seen The Notebook, he had wanted more than anything to have a relationship like Noah and Allie. It even worked out, he thought, because there already is a Noah. The only deal would be that Kurt would play Allie. He wanted to be kissed passionately in the pouring rain, to be loved and hurt and then loved again, stronger than the first time. He wanted to be kissed on the sidewalk at midnight and have all of his pain taken away. And now, he thought, I totally could. He finally had his Noah, and all there was left to do was to make it to forever.  
><em><br>Get me with those green eyes, baby, as the lights go down  
>Give me something that'll haunt me when you're not around<br>'cause I see sparks fly  
><em>_Whenever you smile_

Kurt wanted something that would haunt him in a good way. He was tired of being haunted by his past. He was tired of being constantly haunted by his mother and by his tormenter. And, more recently, he was tired of being haunted by Mercedes, who seemed to be constantly hanging over his shoulder like a long-lost whisper. He wanted something good to haunt him for once, something sweet and chilling, like the color of Puck's eyes, or the glint of Puck's teeth.

_My mind forgets to remind me  
>You're a bad idea<br>You touch me once and it's really something  
>You find I'm even better than you imagined I would be<em>

Puck had to chuckle to himself at those last couple of lines. It was true; all he had to do was touch Kurt once to know that he was the one. Sparks had emitted from Kurt's skin to Puck's fingertips. They shot up Puck's arm and sparked something both in his brain and in his heart. He had never imagined, after having a baby with Quinn, that he would fall in love with a guy, let alone with Kurt. He hadn't imagined that Kurt would be as good of a kisser as he was. In fact, he was better than Puck ever thought he could be.  
><em><br>I'm on my guard for the rest of the world  
>But with you I know it's no good<br>And I could wait patiently  
><em>_But I really wish you would…_

Kurt was constantly on his guard. He was always walking on eggshells, standing on his tiptoes, just waiting for something to happen. After all that had gone down with Karofsky, he had sworn off relationships, love, and, especially, boys. But with Puck, he knew that this vow to himself was no good. He knew that no matter what, Puck would always change his mind about things, would always make him come back, and Kurt didn't care. He'd always go back to Puck, willingly.  
><em><br>Drop everything now  
>Meet me in the pouring rain<br>Kiss me on the sidewalk  
>Take away the pain<br>'cause I see sparks fly whenever you smile_

Quinn folded her arms across her chest. She couldn't believe that the boy she'd had a baby with, the boy who had almost ruined her life, was gay. God, how could I have been so stupid? She didn't have any animosity towards Kurt. On the contrary, she was quite happy that Kurt was so happy. It was just Kurt's new boyfriend that Quinn had a problem with. Why Puck? Out of all the gay boys out there, why Puck? She sighed in frustration. She vowed to test every future boyfriend from now on, just in case.  
><em><br>Get me with those green eyes, baby, as the lights go down  
>Give me something that'll haunt me when you're not around<br>'cause I see sparks fly  
><em>_Whenever you smile_

Well, I guess Kurt's eyes do kinda look green depending on what he's wearing. But still, they're gorgeous, and they can get me whenever they want to. Puck couldn't help but to gaze at his boyfriend. He loved watching Kurt perform even more than he enjoyed watching himself perform. Kurt's eyes were constantly in his mind, so haunting and grey and blue and green, all at the same time. Puck decided that Kurt could get him with those pretty eyes when the lights were down or up or whenever they wanted to get him.  
><em><br>I run my fingers through your hair  
><em>_And watch the lights go wild  
>Just keep on keeping your eyes on me<br>__It's just wrong enough to make it feel right_

God, his hair. Kurt may keep a can of hairspray in his locker, but damn, his hair is good. Puck touched his own Mohawk almost embarrassedly. Kurt's hair was just so soft and wonderful, and Puck loved running his hands through it. He was one of the only people that Kurt would even allow to touch his hair. Puck just wanted Kurt to keep his eyes on him and nobody else. It was wrong, so wrong…if Puck's parents ever found out, or the ladies at his temple, he'd be so dead…yet, it felt so incredibly right, that Puck didn't care.  
><em><br>Lead me up the staircase  
>Won't you whisper soft and slow?<br>I'm captivated by you, baby, like a firework show_

Puck just captivated Kurt. It was like Kurt was under some sort of trance or spell. The way that Puck walked and talked. The way Puck said his name. Even the way that Puck would sometimes call him "little dude". They all just captured and captivated Kurt. He felt like he was watching a never-ending firework show. He never wanted the show to end. He wanted to always be transfixed by the pretty colors and flashes of light. He wanted to always be transfixed by Puck, and never to break this spell that Puck had put him under like a witch in a fairytale, and Kurt was the helpless princess.

_Drop everything now  
>Meet me in the pouring rain<br>Kiss me on the sidewalk  
>Take away the pain<br>'cause I see sparks fly whenever you smile_

Whenever he smiles, both boys thought. Puck loved Kurt's variety of smiles. He loved Kurt's embarrassed smile, and his amused half-smile, and, most of all, the smile that came across Kurt's face whenever he was near. And Kurt…Kurt just adored Puck's smile. He had never really seen it before. But now, he saw it all the time, and he just loved it. Both of them saw the sparks fly, and they couldn't help but to be jolted alive by them.  
><em><br>Get me with those green eyes, baby, as the lights go down  
>Give me something that'll haunt me when you're not around<br>'cause I see sparks fly  
><em>_Whenever you smile  
><em>  
>"I love you, baby," Kurt whispered, blowing a kiss to Puck.<p>

Puck stood up and walked over to Kurt. "I love you, too," he held Kurt's face in his hands, kissing him softly.

Artie whooped. "Get it, Kurt!" Kurt blushed as Puck pulled away.

"That was very nice, Kurt. Glad to have you singing again. Now, who's ready for the next competition?"

Rachel shot her hand up in the air. "Mr. Schuester, if I may suggest something?"

Mr. Schue rolled his eyes. "What is it, Rachel?"

"I propose that we give Kurt the male leads this time around."

Kurt's eyes widened. "Me?"

Rachel smiled. "You. You're really, really talented, Kurt. And I think it would be a nice change of pace. Besides, Sam and Finn have gotten the leads before. It's time you had your moment in the spotlight."

Kurt smiled pleasantly. "Thanks, Rachel."

Mr. Schuester clapped his hands. "Okay, so who votes that we give Kurt the lead vocals at our next competition?" Everyone's hand went up in the air. "It's decided then. Congrats, Kurt."

Puck held Kurt close to him. "Kill it," he whispered. "I know you will."

_I'm captivated by you, baby, like a firework show…_


	24. Acceptance and Heartbreak

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.**

**Note: Okay, so I've made up my mind. This is the penultimate chapter after all. This is mostly a passage-of-time chapter, with characters making revelations to their families and friends. Tomorrow's chapter is the last, with an epilogue on Tuesday. I hate to cut this off now, but I have no more ideas for this story! I am also terribly busy this week, and I won't have time to really write and post new chapters. I'm working (slowly) on the final chapter of A Kartie Story, but this is nearing the end. Keep a lookout for a sequel to Intervention, though!**

**Note 2: Review!**

"God, Kurt, I don't think I can do this."

Kurt smiled. "Yes, you can. I'll be right there with you."

"What if they like, disown me or something?"

Kurt put a hand on Puck's shoulder. "They won't. And if anything happens, you can always crash with me and Finn."

Puck took a deep breath. "Okay. I can do this. After all, we've been dating for three months, and I hate sneaking around like this and pretending to be straight around my parents."

Kurt chuckled. "I know what that's like. I pretended to date Brittany, remember?"

Puck paused. "Oh, you mean Butch Kurt? Was that the week I dated Mercedes?"

Kurt gave a sad smile. "Yeah."

Puck saw that Kurt was sad, and was confused for a moment. "Oh, you miss Mercedes, don't you?"

A tear rolled down Kurt's face. "It killed me to see you with her."

Puck gave him a squeeze. "I'm sorry. But may I remind you that you were dating _Brittany_ at the time."

Kurt laughed bitterly. "Worst decision ever, pretending to be straight to impress my dad."

"Doesn't he love you no matter what?"

"Yeah," Kurt sniffled. "And I'm hoping your dad accepts you, too. And your mom."

"Even if they don't and they forbid me to see you, they can't keep me away from you. I love you, and they can't change that."

Kurt blushed. "What if it turns out to be a Romeo and Juliet story?"

"Um, well, that's a love story, isn't it? Doesn't it have like, a happy ending?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "You fell asleep in freshman English, didn't you?"

Puck nodded. "Yeah. But doesn't that story have a happy ending?"

"No," Kurt chuckled. "They both kill themselves in the end."

"Well, that won't happen to us," Puck took Kurt's hands. "I promise you."

Kurt looked away, embarrassed. "Let's go," he said softly.

_The Puckerman household_

"Mom? Dad? I have something to, um, tell you."

"Oh, honey, don't tell me you robbed another store," Mrs. Puckerman groaned.

"No, I'm not in trouble with the law. Look, can I just talk to you?"

"Okay," she went into the living room with her husband. "Who's your friend?"

"This is Kurt. He's Finn's stepbrother. Is it okay if he sticks around?"

"Sure, honey. What did you want to tell us?" She settled herself into an easy chair.

"You guys love me no matter what, right? Like, all that unconditional love stuff?"

"Of course, Noah," she looked worried.

"I'm gay," Puck said. "And Kurt's not just my friend. He's my boyfriend."

Mrs. Puckerman looked confused. "But you had a baby with Quinn Fabray…"

"Yeah, but being intimate with a woman didn't mean anything to me. It wasn't until I became friends with Kurt that I realized what was missing. I began having feelings for him and realized that there's no way that I could be straight."

"Well, honey, we love you just the way you are," she said, looking down at her hands. "I'm not sure what I'll tell the ladies at Temple, but…but I love you, honey, and I wish you the best."

Mr. Puckerman, who had been quiet until then, finally spoke up. "Are you sure about this, son?"

"Yeah," Puck put a hand on Kurt's knee. "I'm sure."

"Are you two using…protection?"

Kurt laughed. "Oh, we're not doing anything! We've only kissed, don't worry. Noah's been a complete gentleman with me."

"And you're Finn Hudson's stepson? Burt Hummel's boy?"

"Yes, sir."

Mr. Puckerman sighed. "I can't say that I'm one hundred percent thrilled with this. But you, uh, seem to be a good kid, Kurt. It will take me a while to get used to this, but I…I accept you, Noah."

Puck broke into a grin. "Thanks, Dad. Thanks, Mom. It really means a lot to me."

Mrs. Puckerman stood up and embraced her son. "Anything for my only boy." She turned to hug Kurt. "And you! Feel free to stop by for some challah anytime."

Kurt smiled. "Thanks, Mrs. Puckerman." He stepped back and held out his hand to Mr. Puckerman, who shook it. "Thanks, sir."

"Sure. Tell your dad I said hello, okay?"

"Will do," Kurt smiled, putting his arm around Puck.

"Would you care to stay for dinner, Kurt? I'll whip up a nice healthy meal."

"I'd love to," Kurt said softly, not believing his luck.

"Kurt and I are just gonna go for a walk before dinner," Puck slid an arm around his boyfriend. "Is that okay?"

"Of course," Mrs. Puckerman smiled. "Dinner will be ready in about half an hour."

"'Kay," Puck took Kurt outside. Once they were out the door, he let out a huge exhale.

"That went well," Kurt grinned. "See, I told you they'd accept you!"

"I can't believe they did," Puck took Kurt's hand and started walking down the street with him. "But I'm so glad. You're like, one of the family now. Once my mom invites you over for challah bread, you know you're one of us."

Kurt made a face. "I don't have to like, convert, do I?"

"Nah, we won't make you do that. Man, I can't wait for you to meet my little sister."

Kurt brightened. "A sister? You never mentioned a sister."

"She's your typical pain-in-the-ass little sister, but eh, she's still my sister, you know?"

"Does she like fashion? Can I give her a makeover? Can she be my little sister?"

"Not really, if you want, and absolutely," Puck laughed. "She's a bit of a tomboy, actually, but hey, she does like singing."

Kurt clapped. "Yay! I'm going to have to meet her then."

Puck leaned down and kissed Kurt's forehead. "She's going to love you," he murmured against Kurt's temple.

"And I already love her, if she's anything like her big brother," Kurt said shyly.

Puck laughed a big hearty laugh. "Oh, God, I love you, Kurt."

"And I, you," Kurt stood on his tiptoes to kiss Puck full on the mouth.

_The Lopez household_

"Mama? Can I talk to you about something?"

"Of course, Sanny," Mrs. Lopez smiled. "What is it?"

Santana paused. "You might want to sit down."

Mrs. Lopez frowned and sat down slowly. "You're not…_pregnant_, are you?"

"Oh, God, no," Santana shook her head quickly. "Um, kind of the opposite, actually."

"What do you mean?" Mrs. Lopez looked at her daughter curiously.

"I'm gay," Santana whispered.

Mrs. Lopez looked at her for a long, cold moment. "What?"

"I'm gay," Santana whispered again, her hands shaking.

"No. No, you're not," Mrs. Lopez stood up. "You can't be."

"But I am," Santana insisted. "I am, and I have a girlfriend!"

Mrs. Lopez slapped her daughter across the face.

Santana's eyes welled with tears at the sting of the slap. "No daughter of mine is going to be a…a lesbian," Mrs. Lopez said it as if it were a dirty word. She looked at Santana for another long moment. "Get out of my house," she said slowly, carefully.

"But Mom!"

"I'd rather have you tell me that you were pregnant than tell me…_this_," Mrs. Lopez spat out. "I'd rather have you be a teen mother than admit to me that you're a lesbian!" She shook her head and pointed up the stairs. "One hour. You have one hour to pack, and then you're out of here. I don't care where you go. Just leave my house."

"Mama, please don't do this," Santana begged.

"58 minutes," Mrs. Lopez pointed up the stairs again. Santana turned around to face them, eyes blind with tears. She climbed the steps one at a time, slowly, painfully, feeling as if she were moving underwater. _Kicked out! _She closed the door to her room slowly, looking around for a bag to shove some things in. _Kicked out!_ She reached for her cell phone, tears dripping down her face and plopping onto her bedspread.

**Santana: Told Mom. Have an hour to pack. She kicked me out.**

**Kurt: Oh my God. Come to my house. You can spend the night here.**

Santana thanked God for Kurt Hummel, and felt a tiny bit better knowing that she at least had a place to sleep that night. She quickly threw in some clothes and money, and thundered down the stairs, not bothering to look at her mother, who had been timing her with the kitchen clock. She ran out to her car, but then remembered she'd had her license revoked after the accident. Frustrated, she ran all the way to Kurt's house, bag flung over her shoulder. Twenty minutes later, she was standing in front of his door, gasping for breath. She knocked twice, and Kurt opened the door quickly.

"Oh God, Santana," he pulled her in for a hug. She let go of her hard exterior and dissolved into tears. "I'm so sorry," he murmured. He pulled away. "Dad already said it's okay if you crash here for a couple of days."

She wiped the tears and snot away with her sleeve, not caring if it was gross. "Thanks, Kurt," she sniffled.

"Anything for you," he smiled, pulling her inside. "Go on in. You'll be staying in the basement, okay? Don't worry, it's finished, and there's some nice couches down there."

She gave him a halfhearted smile. "Okay."

He put his arm around her. "We'll make it better," he whispered, kissing her cheek.

"Um, hey, Santana," Finn walked into the living room slowly. "I uh, heard the news. And I'm real sorry."

"I am, too," she shrugged. "It's her loss, I guess."

"That's the spirit," Kurt gave her a tiny squeeze. "Come on. Let's go get you settled in, and then maybe we can talk about this or just do each other's nails or something."

"That sounds great," she smiled a little more now.

"It sounds…too girly for my taste. But, uh, I'll make cookies or something," Finn added.

"And let you near an oven? Absolutely not," Kurt admonished him. "But you're free to watch a movie or something later."

"Sounds great," Finn grinned. He walked away to find some possible movie choices.

"Come on. Let's get your life back on track," Kurt led Santana to the basement.

_One accepted, one not, but both out of the silence._


	25. Come What May

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or Come What May.**

**Note: Another of Our Lord Colfer's favorite love songs! Hooray! Again, it works well for this story, especially because (brace thyselves) this is the last chapter! Before you ask, I AM going to do a sequel-to-the-sequel, or perhaps, a spinoff. And I WILL post a quick Epilogue tomorrow. But I do think this song rounds off this chapter in the Fire Trilogy nicely. Thoughts? Suggestions? I'm open to all. (You know what else I'm open to? Reviews.)**

**Note 2: Okay, so I tried to upload this on Monday night, but the site was having upload issues, so I'm uploading this now. You'll still get your Epilogue, though!**

"They kicked her out?" Puck stared at Kurt in disbelief.

"Yeah," Kurt growled. "I swear, I'm going to go right up to that bitch and tell her where she can shove her-"

"Calm down there, cutie," Puck grabbed Kurt by the shoulders. "There's nothing we can do about this. Let's just try and get Santana a new home. What did your dad say?"

"She can stay for a little while, but really no more than a week."

"Wish we could take her," Puck said regretfully. "But my 'rents said no."

Kurt sighed. "Maybe she can crash with Brittany or something? Or maybe we can all share her until school's out. She can a job and buy her own apartment."

"Can't she live with her girlfriend?"

Kurt shook his head. "If Mrs. Lopez threw Santana out, I can only imagine what Tallulah's parents would do to her. Probably beat her to death or something."

Puck's expression grew serious. "What do you mean, Kurt?"

Kurt looked away. "Oh…um, let's just say that her parents are…really harsh."

"You mean abusive."

Kurt twiddled his thumbs. "In a manner of speaking…yes."

"Can't she…?"

"She's never really talked about it. I only know because she told Santana…who told me."

"God, I can't stand parents that are such assholes like that."

"I'm just lucky that my dad didn't turn that way after my mom passed away."

"Tell me about her," Puck said suddenly.

"My mom?" Puck nodded. "Well, she was…she was really beautiful. People say that I look just like her. She was the nicest, most honest person you'd ever meet. Even though she died when I was only eight, I still really miss her." He paused, deep in thought. "I remember meeting this kid in the hospital…ohmyGod, I met Artie there!"

Puck looked thoroughly confused at Kurt's steam of consciousness commentary. "Wait, what?"

"The doctor wanted to talk to my dad, so I wandered down the hall and something drew me to this room, and there was a kid in there, just about my age, who said that his legs didn't work right. I remember commenting on his well-decorated wheelchair. He said his name was Artie. Wow," Kurt chuckled. "I knew him all this time and I never realized it."

Puck laughed. "I can't believe that you remember all of this. I can't even remember what I did last week."

"Boys," Kurt rolled his eyes. "I have the memory of an elephant, and an elephant never forgets."

"Do you remember when you first fell for me?" Puck teased.

"I most certainly do. It was freshman year. You were walking down the hall in a tank top and jeans, and I thought it was the hottest thing ever."

"Hmm, maybe I should wear that more often," Puck grinned. "So I was on Netflix and I found this cool movie with Nicole Kidman in it and so I rented it."

Kurt perked up. "Which one is it? I do love a good Nicole movie."

"Oh, just a little film called…Moulin Rouge!."

Kurt squealed. "Oh my God, I love that movie! It's only one of the best love stories of all time. AND it has singing and dancing in it! And Ewan McGregor…yum."

Puck glared at Kurt. "Anyway, so the love song in it is really cool, and I've been practicing it…do you want to, um, sing it with me?"

Kurt gasped. "I've only wanted to sing that song with someone since the age of thirteen!"

Puck chuckled. "Well, good. So you wanna?"

"Only if I get to be Nicole."

"Deal," Puck flirt-punched Kurt on the shoulder.

_Never knew I could feel like this  
>Like I've never seen the sky before<br>Want to vanish inside your kiss  
>Seasons may change, winter to spring<br>But I love you, until the end of time_

Kurt blushed. This was a quintessential love song, and he was beyond thrilled to be singing it with Puck. It really did feel like Kurt had never seen the sky before. It was turning darker now, and they were in their local park. The sun was setting, and the sky was a brilliant shade of yellow, infused with pinks and blues and oranges. It was the most beautiful thing that Kurt had seen in a long time; he'd almost forgotten that the sky could look like this. Was this what love made you feel like? If it was, Kurt didn't want to ever not be in love. He wanted to just vanish inside of Puck's kiss and never return. He wanted to perform a magic act and disappear, never to be seen again, unless Puck was there.  
><em><br>Come what may  
>Come what may<br>I will love you, until my dying day_

Kurt was bright red by now. Their relationship had overcome such adversity, that Kurt was surprised that they were still standing. They had been through turmoil and loss, grief and love found when all seemed lost. But no matter what came, Puck was always standing beside Kurt. He didn't care that Kurt had been on antidepressants for the past few months, or that he'd seen Kurt at the lowest point that he'd ever seen anybody. He would love Kurt until the day he died. He hoped he'd die before Kurt so that he would never have to live without him.  
><em><br>Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place  
>Suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace<br>Suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste  
>It all revolves around you<em>

Kurt took Puck's hand and led him down the path as he sang. He seemed to move with grace and dignity. Everything just seemed perfect, like they were the only two people in the world, like nothing else mattered than right here, right now. Not even a year ago, Kurt had felt like his life was a waste. He had nothing to live for, especially after Mercedes died. Sure, they could always say he had his dad, Carole, and Finn, but Kurt saw it as being nothing to live for. Now, with Puck, his life didn't seem that way anymore. His life was no longer meaningless. Everything revolved around Puck. Kurt didn't want to be one of those girls—err, boys—whose lives revolved around their boyfriends, but he felt himself under Puck's tight spell, unable to break free, and not caring.  
><em><br>And there's no mountain too high  
>No river too wide<br>Sing out this song and I'll be there by your side_

Puck allowed himself to be led by Kurt. He usually liked to be the leader, but this was Kurt's song, and it was Kurt's moment. There was nothing he wouldn't do for Kurt. He would climb Mount Everest, and he would swim the length of the Nile River. As long as he could always love and be with Kurt, he would take any measure to make sure that Kurt was always his. He had always told himself that he would never be in a committed relationship as long as he was in high school, and here he was, one hundred percent committed to Kurt. And Puck wouldn't want it any other way.  
><em><br>Storm clouds may gather  
>And stars may collide<br>But I love you  
>I love you<br>Until the end of time_

Kurt just wanted to run down that path and scream. He had no idea what he was doing. He was so in love, and yet, he was so afraid. He was afraid that this could all be something good that would come and go as quickly as it started. He was afraid that Puck would soon expect sex from him. Puck couldn't help it; he was a teenage boy, after all. Kurt was terrified that Karofsky would never give it up, that he would always be there, leering at Kurt from around the corner. But one look into Puck's eyes told him otherwise. Kurt knew that this was true love, and that every word Puck was singing was true.  
><em><br>Come what may  
>Come what may<br>I will love you, until my dying day_

Kurt would indeed. He would love Puck until his dying day. He had once heard a Winnie-the-Pooh quote that said "if you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day so that I never have to live without you." It was something that Kurt's mother had always said to him, and Kurt had said it to Mercedes. Now he was able to say it to Puck. Kurt didn't want to live one day without Puck. He wanted to wake up every morning with Puck sleeping next to him, wanted to kiss him as he woke up every morning and before he fell asleep every night.  
><em><br>I will love you (come what may)  
>Oh, yes I will love you (come what may)<br>I will love you, until my dying day_

Kurt didn't care who was around; he titled his chin up and kissed Puck. "I will always love you," he whispered.

"Until the day I die," Puck added softly. "You know what you remind me of?"

"What?" Kurt fluttered his eyelashes.

"Like a phoenix. You know, those cool birds that burst into flames when they die and then they're reborn from the ashes?"

"A phoenix," Kurt whispered. "I like that." He let the word roll off his tongue. _Phoenix. Phoenix. Phoenix._

"You're my phoenix," Puck pulled Kurt into his chest. "And you've been reborn from those ashes."

Kurt giggled at the vibrations he felt from Puck's chest. "It feels good."

"What, my arms or being reborn?"

Kurt paused. "Both." He grinned up at Puck. "Come on. Let's go home. I have Moulin Rouge! on DVD. We can watch it with Santana, or…" Kurt ran a finger down Puck's chest semi-seductively. "We can watch it by ourselves and snuggle. And maybe we can even make out."

Puck's eyes lit up. "Race you home!"

"No fair!" Kurt laughed, running after his boyfriend. He felt like he was flying, like he could just soar through the air forever.

_He felt like a phoenix._


	26. Epilogue

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.**

**Note: So here's the Epilogue! Just gonna post this now, because I'm busy tomorrow night (Senior Honors Night), Thursday night (dance class), and Friday night (Senior Prom!). Yes, that's right, this week's Glee happens to coincide with my very own Prom. So, I won't be able to update anything for a few nights. Hope you enjoyed the second installment in this trilogy!**

"Kurt, what am I going to do?" Santana sighed, grabbing a pillow off of the couch and holding it to her chest.

"Well," Kurt said slowly. "You can stay here for a week, but after that…"

Santana whipped the pillow across the room. "You're just going to kick me out, too?"

"No, no, no," Kurt tried to reassure her. "Well, technically, yes, but it's Dad's rule. Maybe…maybe you can go to Britt's house, or Rachel's, or Quinn's?"

Santana scoffed. "And just be traded around from house to house like a class pet?"

"Santana," Kurt sat down next to her. "God, I'm so sorry that this happened to you. But you've got to stop taking it out on me."

Santana glared at him with a look that plainly told Kurt that if looks could kill, he'd be six feet under right about now. "Get out."

Kurt stood his ground. "No. This is my house, and we're taking you in as our guest."

"Get. Out."

"No," Kurt crossed his legs and folded his arms. "We're going to talk this out." _God, I sound just like Finn did that day before I went to the psych ward._

"I don't want to talk this out. I want my mother."

Kurt closed his eyes. "Your mother is a bitch, Santana."

"She's just angry. She'll come around, I know she will."

"No, Santana…I've seen this before and the parents hardly ever come around." He sighed and put a hand on her knee. "You're just going to have to move on without her."

"I want my mother to be there on my wedding day," Santana put her head in her hands. "And I want her to see her grandchildren, and I want her to meet Tallulah, and I want-"

"Santana!" Kurt grabbed her shoulders. "I want those things for you, too, but you just have to face the facts!" He shook his head, tears forming in his eyes. "I want my mother to be there for my wedding day, too, and I want her to meet Puck, and I want all of those things. But Santana, those things will never be."

"Your mother is _dead_," Santana snarled. "My mother is _alive_."

"Santana, if you're going to be a bitch about this, then fine, but if you want to talk rationally, my room's upstairs." He got up and stormed out of the room dramatically, feeling very much like one Rachel Berry.

Santana waited until he was gone before retrieving the pillow from the other side of the room. She flopped down onto the couch and screamed into the pillow until she passed out.

The next morning, Kurt knocked on the door to the basement, letting himself in. "Santana? How…how are you feeling?"

"I miss her," she sniffled. Kurt could tell that she'd been crying.

"I know you do," Kurt hung back by the stairwell. "And it's okay to miss her for a little while. I'm not saying that she'll accept you, but I'm not saying that she'll _never_ accept you."

Santana shook her head confusedly. "I just don't know what to do," she said numbly.

Kurt shrugged. "Talk to your therapist about it?"

"With no car and no way to pay for it?"

Kurt smiled. "I'll drive. And I'll help pay."

"I can't let you do that, Kurt."

Kurt held out his hand. "It's the least I can do."

"Thanks," Santana murmured. "Do…do you think I can talk to Carole about this?"

"Yeah, sure. She's upstairs. I'm sure she'd love to have another girl to talk to. I mean, I'm an honorary girl, but, you know, it's not the same."

"And can you maybe take me somewhere later so I can see Tallulah?"

Kurt nodded. "Anything for you, Santa Ana."

"You're the best, Kurt," she stood up and hugged him.

"I try," Kurt chuckled. He looked her dead in the eye. "Are you sure you're gonna be okay?"

"Not right now," she said honestly. "But soon."

Kurt titled his head. "You know what Puck said to me yesterday? That I was like a phoenix. You know, those birds in like, Harry Potter that catch fire when they die and then a new baby bird comes out of the ashes?"

"Interesting," Santana said slowly. "A phoenix. I like that, I think."

"Phoenixes mate for life, and they're really loyal. Their tears also have healing powers."

"Sounds just like you," she whispered.

"And like you," he said back to her. "You're a phoenix, too, Santana."

_They both were phoenixes. _


End file.
